Lovefool
by hotpielookedlikehotpie
Summary: AU; Over the years I have thought up various situations where I'd find a reason to talk to her. Being in the same school district, oppurtunities are like weeds sometimes. There always seemed to be a problem in my plans. My Achilles Heel. I am a goddamn coward.
1. lovefool

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, story, or have any ownership of the Hunger Games

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**a/n:** A new AU. First off, I'm not abandoning the "and it runs through my veins" series. That one is really intricate and every now and then I find myself in a bind on how to get from A to B. That, and I am currently writing over ten AUs at the same time. And this one I started just last week but have a good amount planned out. It started out simple, with my friend telling me to write a high school au in the same line of a 90's romcom teen movie. I always seem to write sad and angst, so I thought that this would be fun. As I figured out the plot it's veering a bit from just strictly romcom times, but that is the simple heart of this. So every chapter is going to have cheesy 90s/80s lyrics. Because cheesy songs from the 90s and 80s are the best and it's fun to set them to Katniss and Peeta.

writing blog can be found hotpiewrotehotpie-tumblr-com (. instead of -)

Rated M for language and future chapters

The title "Lovefool" comes from the song by the band The Cardigans.

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_love me love me, say that you love me_  
_fool me fool me, go on and fool me_  
_love me love me, pretend that you love me_  
_leave me leave me, just say that you need me_  
_I can't care about anything but you_  
lovefool | the cardigans

**.01.**

I may have been a little eager in my decision, in all of my decisions regarding, well, _this,_ but the fact of the matter is that eleven years later I sit with the same resolve in my mind. A little eager, a little too windswept in the song of love, but my heart was in the right place at five years old. My heart is in the right place at sixteen years old.

As if a visual to the thought is needed, she walks into the lunchroom.

Through the eleven years that I have known her, it seems as if I was watching the evolution of a quiet beauty in humanity. Her dark hair a couple years ago started having lighter hues that could be picked up in the sunlight, where she liked most to spend her time, but overall it was so dark it seemed black. Freckles like a starmap scattered across her nose in subtle fade ins and fade outs, and I often over the years found myself in a daydream where I count them. She walks in a graceful step, quiet, and no one seems to notice her.

I notice her.

Although, I think I have been rather obvious about that fact. I sometimes feel embarressed by how much I notice her, how much I noticed _of_ her, but eleven years is a long time to be in love with someone.

It only makes matters worse that I'm not sure she even knows my name.

Over the years I have thought up various situations where I'd find a reason to talk to her. Being in the same school district, oppurtunities are like weeds sometimes. There always seemed to be a problem in my plans. My Achilles Heel.

I am a goddamn coward.

I couldn't talk to her, _couldn't_, because I'd mess it all up. Somehow. She would laugh at me, but maybe that would be worth it because her laugh is something of a beauty in itself. Worse than laughing at me, she'd probably look at me with no recognition. I am, have always been, just some classmate of hers that sometimes is in her class over the years.

We have interacted once, but if she remembers that it'd be the worst reaction of all. I would not be a thing to laugh at or to not even recognize. I'd be a reminder of the worst days of her life.

Not exactly a romantic thing to swoon about.

I'm brought out of my daydream of her as she sits down at her lunch table and the occupants of my lunch table comes back into focus. They're all talking about... something... and I see Katniss nod a quiet hello to her friend Madge Undersee. The boisterous Johanna Mason comes in, taking a seat right next to Katniss and she clearly does not enjoy the proximity when Johanna slings her arm around her shoulder as a greeting. The fourth of the group, and other senior with Johanna, is Gale Hawthorne, sitting across.

I look again at my table, completely packed. Teeming with laughter and hoots and each and every one of us with the perfect blue eyes and blond hair signal that means we're well off in this school. I catch Delly's eye who sits across from me and although she is actively part of the conversation, she allows her one eyebrow to raise slightly at me in question.

_Shit_. I have got to be more careful with my whole unrequited love business. I didn't want to tell anyone, and I didn't even tell Delly. Not that I was, or am, embarrassed about my heart, or Katniss. Never. Although most of my classmates, friends even, that I sit next to just right now, would see it as staying a secret because of how bad it'd look for me.

There isn't much difference, between us on one side of the train tracks and the people on the other (as my classmates would refer to as _the wrong side_). A couple more dollars, different looks. Apparently that means everything though.

But after burning for someone for eleven years, people are bound to catch. Luckily for me, one that did was Delly. She asked me at thirteen, whether it was Katniss or Madge that I tried to sneak glances at during lunchtime and recess. I considered playing dumb. I considered lying and saying it was Madge, like I had before. Out of my mouth came the answer came simply: Katniss. She just smiled and said "_I knew it._" Apparently she saw me during our gym class that year looking at Katniss, our science class the year before. This year, it's history, english, math, and lunch (although Delly can only see me seeing her during lunch and history).

"What do you think, Peet?"

I wince at the nickname Peet in my mind. _Peet_, not Peeta. It's one more letter, one more syllable. I hate when people call me it, and yet never say anything about it. I guess if people want to call me Peet instead of Peeta, they can. I don't even know _why_ I dislike it so much, I just do. I should just let it go, it's really a rather stupid thing to get worked up over.

And then I realize that they are asking me something. Asking me my input on god knows what because I've been stuck in my own little Katniss-is-the-only-thing-that-exists world like the lovesick puppy I am, instead of interacting like a normal human being with everyone. I glance at Delly quick in panic, and she mouths "football," with a roll of her eyes.

Easy enough. They're talking about our school's football team, which most of the people I'm sitting with either play or cheer for. I used to play, but can't anymore. But I still keep up with it. I am basically obligated to.

I direct my answer to Kerrick, who asked for my opinion just before. "Undefeated, definitely." The table cheers in agreement, and I mouth a silent thank you to Delly. She rolls her eyes at me again, and I do it back to her in spite. Teenage girls think that they own the right to rolling eyes and every now and then I feel the need to reassure her that they don't.

We continue on with lunch, and I try to actively participate in the conversation, not allowing my eyes to wander over to that round table of four on the other side of the room. I make sure to not let myself get lost in my head again, in case they ask me my opinion like before. Talk mainly stays to the party that Colton was throwing this weekend at his house because his parents are away.

Madge comes to my locker after lunch as I gather my sketchbook and assignment for my art class. "Another kid asked me today if you have the hots for me."

I scoff. Madge is a good person, a semi-friend, and someone I am eternally grateful for. She is also the other person besides Delly that noticed my preoccupation and questioned me about it. She approached me years ago, truly, while we still had recess. She noticed before Delly. Which I guess isn't that odd; she sat nearby the recieving end of it all, it was probably easier to pick out. That, and the fact that gossiping girl whispered to her that they think that a certain Peeta Mellark liked her. She asked me then about this whole thing as well, and I let her know that my sneaking glances were at Katniss.

_After I told her she giggled and nodded, as if she knew all along. Maybe she did. "So are you going to tell her?" _

_I looked at her in shock. "Tell her? You can't be serious." _

_"She's not mean like people say, Peeta."_

_"I never said she was."_

_"Then why don't you tell her?"_

_"I will, alright? When I'm ready. I will."_

_We were quiet, and then she asked me one more question. "People are going to keep telling me about you. Asking me if you like me. Do you want me to tell them yes?"_

I still feel indebted to he. Madge willingly plays the role as the unobtainable object of my affection. The questions about it don't come as much as they used to, the gossip mill needing different stories than just the plain pining of Peeta Mellark for someone he can't have. We're both from the same area of town in general, but in reality the difference between my standings and hers are actually more different than even mine and Katniss'. Her parents are loaded, old money from across seas, and her father was even Knighted a while ago. So while some Baker could never end up with a Sir's daughter, it is more acceptable for him to wish for that then for some girl from the other side of the Tracks.

I slightly hate myself for all of this, and for giving into it. For playing these games that high school lay out for us instead of just saying "fuck it" and liking who I like openly. Then again, the standings are only a part of it. My mother's another part. My cowardice, like I said before, is the biggest.

"What'd you tell them this time?" I ask, shoving back my English books for my second sketchbook. I have my assignment one, and I have my personal one. And I cannot be without my personal one.

"I told Carrie that you were on my lawn last night throwing rocks at my window and I ignored you."

I close the locker with a quiet laugh as we both make our way to art. "Damn, Undersee. You're breaking my heart with your inability to fall for my charm."

"What can I say? You shouldn't have fallen for someone so high up."

Or rather, someone (seen as) so down low. I think in my mind how much easier it _would _be if all those years ago I fell in love with someone like Madge, or anyone really. I can't put someone else truly in the spot that Katniss is in, not even for a 'what if,' but sometimes, sometimes, I wish I could. Maybe I would feel like I could approach the person then. Maybe I would be able to tell them.

She talks again when I don't answer. "It's almost been a decade since you told me that you'd tell her, Peeta."

I shake my head. "It's been six years, not ten. Don't use your rounding rules on me. And don't say decade, it puts into words how pathetic I am."

"You're not pathetic. I'm just saying that at the rate you're going we'll graduate before you tell her. What, do you plan on telling her at our ten year renuion? I wasn't planning on going but I might now."

I had enough of this conversation. "I'll talk to her, I will. It's just–"

"Blondie!" A crass voice rings out as footsteps hurry over to us. "And... other blondie." It's Johanna of course. Who knows both of our names. But apparently calling us by our namesakes wouldn't belittle us as much as she wants us to be. Her smile is wicked. "Whatcha talkin' about?"

"Nothing important, Jo. Just walking to art and talking about our assignment."

I easily slip into the excuse with a groan. "Perspective drawing of a room with at least four objects in varying distances within it. Might have to just have me in the corner bashing my head into the wall to let our teacher know what I think about it."

Johanna's laugh is too loud to be real. "Yeah, Blondie, sure. Well continue your secret conversation." She raises her eyebrow at me, which I return to show her I'm not intimidated.

Which, I totally am.

She chuckles again. "Have fun with Brainless," and leaves.

"Why did she call you Brainless?" I don't think I would ever understand being friends with Johanna Mason. Her endearing names for people are crude. She is lewd to the point of overdoing it and likes to be callous. I have a feeling that deep inside, probably, there's a caring person, but I think it's just a bit too deep for me to try and be friends with.

"She doesn't call me Brainless. That's what she calls Katniss."

My heart leaps a bit, like it usually does at her name but not for the same reason. Was Johanna trying to tell me something, using that nickname and raising her eyebrow at me? Did she know we were talking about Katniss?

Fuck. I decide that I hate the entire female gender and their ability to see through me as if I have written upon my forehead that I'm in love with Katniss Everdeen.

"Let's just get to art," I tell her, and we make our way. We sit next to each other in the class, a conversation coming and going between us. That's how it always is with me and her, with me and most people really. People view me as one of the more popular kids, when in reality it's not exactly the most true. I have a large set of people I eat lunch with, a smaller group that I will spend time with outside of class, and that's about it. I have a ton of people – like Madge – who I'll sit next to in whatever class we have together. And in that class, it's like we're the best of friends. We'll talk or laugh, even if it's on and off it almost feels genuine. We bond over our hate (or love, like in art) of the subject, and the bond is even stronger if the teacher is mean and goes out of their way to single on of us out. We become a united front of teenage angst and sometimes, during that hour of class, I would wonder if I truly was developing a new friendship. But the moment the bell rings it's as if a spell is broken and our friendship facade is done and we act as if we don't exist to one another anymore.

Ah. High school.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, but then again my days always seem to pass as such. I'm at a weird time in my life where time seems both at once too fast and unendingly slow and at the end it feels like a whirlwind. Something feels like it happened ten seconds ago and yet at the same time a week seemed to stretch between then and now. Maybe it's just the growing stages of life. I don't know. All I know is how adults tell me how fast time goes past and it scares me to think it'll go faster.

As I walk to my brother's car I pull my hood up of my sweatshirt to block the rain coming down. The scar across my leg aches, my whole leg aches, like the weather always brings about. I try to mask the limp and am quite successful with it. And I do a pretty good job. It's been two years, but I know that the doctors told me the pain and aches will come and go for most if not all of the rest of my life. Something to look forward to.

I lean against the car and wait for the other high schooled Mellark, my brother Jakob, trying to think dry in hopes that it'll work out in my favor. It doesn't. I'm soaked to the bone and now my slight ache of a leg is burning. I look towards the front of the school to see if I can catch sight of the bastard that I'm related to. No sign. I hope I don't catch a cold on top of all of this. I sigh to myself angrily, not in the mood for my brother's antics for the day. Jakob and I get along well enough, but when we are in school we are to not know each other. He's one of the most popular of the Senior class, not only with friends but also into sports, good grades, and known as both a nice guy and a comedian. His girlfriend is gorgeous and they are very much in love. If someone was to paint the perfect high school picture, it'd be his face.

I'm popular enough, and well liked. My damaged leg took me out of my sports that I used to do. I like art and reading, which seems to be an odd idea that most people give me blank stares about. My fixation on just one being has made me not successful in the ladies department. To my brother, I'm lacking. I resent him a bit for it, I guess. About how he doesn't try to defend me if I trip because my leg gives out or how he never tried to help me freshman year find a class. But I guess it's whatever, and to be expected. We were never that close, except for maybe when we were really young, at a time I can't remember. We have a companionship at home nowadays for the simple fact that we live together and work at the bakery together. It seems more forced than our learned ignorance of each other at school became. When the oldest, Cole, moved out for college two years ago giving us our own rooms as I made my way to high school, a lot changed. Momentarily that year flashes before my eyes, or, to be more specific, one specific week of it. I grimace at just the memory; it's a good thing I have my own room, I definitely decide; every now and then I need isolation to deal with everything that happened and everything that is happening.

Looking at the car, I see a piece of paper with my name in my brother's shitty handwriting waiting for me. I groan; already knowing what the note will tell me as I punch in the four digit lock combination on the pad underneath the front door handle. I wonder if my brother's indifference is bordering on hatred today and he knew the weather as he decided such.

I am not wrong. The letter is short, and tells me that he's staying after with some club or another. He can't drive me. So I either have to find another ride home, walk home, or wait two hours for the late bus that will take another hour to get home due to all the stops it takes.

This sucks. I'm feeling particularly pouty at all this and know that I'm being overly grouchy. I don't care. My leg hurts. I know that my family knows that the weather makes it ache, but they don't really understand how it is. Days like this I wish I just lost the damn thing and had to deal with the occaisional phantom limb feelings rather than this dull ache. It's just so prominant and unrelenting that I'm not sure if there is a slower kind of torture the ninth circle of Hell could come up with.

Most people are gone from the parking lot, having rushed out as quick as possible. I sigh again and stuff my hands in my pockets, starting to limp back over to the main entrance of the school. Usually I'd just walk but the rain casted that out. Looks like I'll be hanging out in the library until the late bus comes around.

"Blondie, over here!" A voice rings out when I'm in the middle of the parking lot en route. I turn to the voice and see Johanna Mason at her old sedan waving me down.

I'm confused, but slowly trek my way over there, trying to hide my limp. "Alright, old man. Limp on over here, that's right." I want to just spit on the ground and turn but I don't. She's Katniss' friend, I think, and well, I think I've already established that I'm a fool when it comes to her. Eventually I stand in front of her. "About time. You need a ride?"

Instantly, I'm on guard. A ride? I am not friends with Johanna Mason. She is a senior, in my brother's grade. My brother and her sure as hell aren't friends. I'm pretty sure she despises my brother, and always has since she moved her. A memory raced through my mind of when I was still in grade school and how my brother came home sporting a black eye that he got from some stupid new girl. No, the two of them never got along. And yet, here she is, asking if I need a ride.

I've stayed silent too long. "I know you can talk, Blondie."

"Why would you give me a ride?"

"Because you're limping and obviously been stranded by your considerate brother. Come on." The passenger door is opened and she makes her way to the driver's side and gets in without looking at me again. I pause for a minute before I finally sit down. If anything, I won't have to deal with waiting for the bus or walk. Plus, I'm sure my brother will get in a fluster if he hears who drove me home (he will), flustered because Johanna Mason is doing a better job at looking out for me than he is.

The radio blares automatically but Johanna turns it down as if she wants to talk. The song is loud and full of noise, and I can just imagine them all in their flannel shirts. The lead singer sounds like she has some anger issues, as well as daddy issues, but I'm not surprised. Johanna would be the one to listen to music by girls angry at their fathers, or whatever it is they blare on about.

As we pull out of the parking lot in silence beside the music, we pass two braided figures. One is smaller, with two blonde braids while the other, taller, has one dark brown one. The Everdeen sisters are walking home in the rain, more in the trees that edge the school and following the trees to the tracks and past them, into the Seam where there will be more trees and more coverage. I try to not keep my eyes locked on her.

"I was lying."

I am not expecting her voice, so I jump a bit. "What?" I'm trying to go through what she told me today and what she could have lied about.

"I'm not driving you to be a good person. I have some bones to pick with you Mellark." I groan, suddenly wanting to take my seatbelt off and just dive out of the car. That will be better than the questions I'm going to be grilled, I'm sure. That will be better than any more time with Johanna.

I stay seated though, and my eyes don't move from staring straight in front of me. "Ask away."

"How long have you wanted to bone Katniss Everdeen?"

I'm not drinking anything but I feel as if I'm spluttering and it's rushing out of my nose. What the fuck? My hand goes to my seatbelt button, as if I really am about to unlock myself from it and just jump out of this car. I might be.

She just snickers and keeps driving. "I did say I have _bones _to pick. Alright, let me find a better way to appease to your gentleman side. How long have you longed to court Katniss Everdeen?"

I shake my head. It was one thing telling Madge because there were rumors involving her about it all. It made sense that Delly figured it out because she was practically my sister. But Johanna...no. All she is is a senior that feels no loyalty to me, who definitely has at least some kind of communication with Katniss. I don't know if she has any loyalties but if she did it'd be to Katniss. This could only end badly.

"Why are you even asking me this?"

"Curiosity is burning through me about it all. I know that's what you and Madge were talking about. I've heard the rumors, Blondie. Of how in love you are with _Madge_ and how you try and profess your love in different ways but she is only your friend. You have to cover up your lies better than you are. I was with Madge one night when she started the next week saying that you tried to climb the tree by her window only to fall on your ass. I wish you kinda did though; that would've been a good laugh. Although you probably would've hurt your leg even more."

I stay silent.

"So? How long? You kind of owe me an answer, you know, since I'm driving you home." I curse the damn rain, my damn brother, and my damn self once more. Today couldn't get any worse.

"Since I first saw her. Five years old. Let's just drop the subject now."

"Is she the reaon why you always cold shoulder your dates?" Another silence, which Johanna laughs in. "I don't even care but I heard some girls in the lockers room about it. She really wanted to kiss you, to get another date, probably eventually have your babies. She said you _bowed_ to her. Did you _bow_ to her after a first date, in which she was expecting a kiss?"

More silence brought on an even louder howling laugter from Johanna. It got old really fast. "What the hell do you think you're doing, saving yourself for her?"

"My house is third on the left, thanks Johanna."

She slows down, but only right at the beginning of the street. We still have a ways to go. I groan.

"You're saving yourself for her!"

I fight the panic and shake my head. It's not the real truth, really, but it's a bit too close for me to feel comfortable. I haven't talked to anyone about this. "I'm not _saving myself_ for her, Johanna. I just haven't felt a spark with any girl, and how can I be with them like that when I can't even feel the spark? It should be there."

"I don't know what kind of spark you're talking about but let me inform you it doesn't exist. Kisses don't _spark_, fucking doesn't _spark_. Fucking feels good though. Listen, those girls in the bathroom...just tell me and maybe I'll help you out and get you some."

We got to my house, and I scramble to open the door. "Alright, thanks for the ride Johanna. See ya."

I know she's going to say one last thing to me but I resolve to not turn back. "Peeta!" She calls, and I pause. She used my name. Not Blondie, not some ruthless joke. I groan a bit at how I lied to myself, how I'm going to listen to another thing that Johanna Mason is going to say, and I make my way over towards her.

"Invite me to your friend's house party."

I blink. _What?_ "What?"

"Invite me–"

"Yeah yeah I got that I just–" I scratched the back of my neck. Colton's house party that they were talking about at lunch and I'm expected to go. I am expected to get invites out to thousands since he wants a "big party." I looked at Johanna skeptically. "You wanna go?"

She makes a face. "Not really, but cheap beer is cheap beer. Plus I may have a couple of friends that may be interested in going in case I get an invite to it or something."

It isn't fair. I get her game now. I invite her, she invites Katniss. "Why would you do that?" I ask quietly, and I hope she doesn't hear me.

She does. "I'm trying to help you out here. I like the idea of you becoming less pure. Your radiant pure sheet is wrapped so tightly around you and it's starting to piss me off. Plus I want to see how you handle yourself once you find out who Katniss Everdeen really is." I have a feeling that Johanna Mason believes that it's just a simple crush that is wrapped all in lust that I have for Katniss. That even though I told her that it's been since I first saw her, she doesn't truly believe me. Johanna seems like a person that doesn't believe in love, doesn't think it exists, and doesn't think someone could feel such a deep feeling such as that.

I take a deep breath and swallow my thoughts that are telling me that this is a bad idea. Everything can go wrong. Everything _will_ go wrong. But I've been in love with the same girl for over eleven years and only once during that did I try a couple of times to get her to notice me. "Sure," I say as brave as possible. "You want to come to Colton's on friday? Free shitty beer and blasting music."

"Well if you insist." She turns up the radio and I tell her it starts at eleven and that it's the house at the crook of the street edging the lake. I watch as she guns her car off my street and make my way up to my house's front door, limping. It's still raining. I sigh as I walk in, and shut the door quickly. Today is Thursday, tomorrow friday, and then the party that evening. I run my hand through my hair, the raindrops falling as I brush them out. I groan.

This could only end badly.


	2. only wanna be with you

**a/n:** Wow, thanks for the response to this! I won't be able to update this daily, but I was able to write a good amount and I was surprised by the reviews/alerts that I decided to get along to the next part. I'm glad a good amount of you are enjoying this Johanna! She's such a great character and is especially fun in this au. A couple people asked as well with whether or not I'm going to be going into Katniss POV. I'm tempted, I might, but I'm not sure. If I do, it'll be later on down the line. Or maybe afterwards, I'll do an outtakes of this and do some parts in Katniss' pov. A scene in this part in particular I've thought out in Katniss POV so that might happen. Anyway, enjoy! Thanks again for the reviews/feedback/etc. writing blog is at hotpiewrotehotpie . tumblr . com  
I thank all of you who are totally in love with all of those cheesy movies that we grew up with, and those songs that became our soundtracks.

In other news, Hootie and the Blowfish is an awesome band, as well as REM.

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_well there's nothing I can do _  
_I only wanna be with you _  
_you can call me your fool _  
_only wanna be with you _  
_Put on a little Dylan _  
_sitting on a fence _  
_I say that line is great _  
_you ask me what I meant by_  
**only wanna be with you | hootie and the blowfish**

**.02.**

I'm sweating when I wake up, panting, and my skin feels like it's on fire on my sprawled out self. It's the same damn thing for two years now and I hate it. I groan, knowing I won't fall back asleep and the rain is still unrelenting, still knocking at my window as if it wants to come in and sweep me away. My alarm clock blares the numbers 4:23 from beside me and I sit myself up and wince as my leg still gives off waves of aching. Still raining, still aching, and now I'm stuck awake. It's not that bad, though, I tell myself. I wake up usually at five and get ready quick so I can be at the bakery just at the end of the street by six and get in a solid hour of working before I get to school. Sometimes I come into first period with flour in my hair. Sometimes I just man the cash register and have only the smell of the baked goods surrounding me. Either way dad always sends me off with stale breakfast bread to eat during first period and a quick pat on my cheek, since sixteen is too old for a hug or kiss from my father.

My mother does inventory, is always doing the paperwork. I can't remember the last time she actually helped out at the store beyond an emergency need manning the register. I'd say that I wished she took more part in helping with the bakery, our family's business, but that would be a lie. It's better that she stays away, that she barely even remembers that I exist. She lets me know I'm nothing more than a burden, and the feel of her stare makes me nervous and jittery when I work. The bakery is one of the only places that has been completely steadfast in its ability to make me feel overall able, and like I can contribute. Even after, those two years ago, even with my limp and my scar and my pain, I can still do things there. I still am the best at decorating the cakes. I still can roll out the dough just as fast as my father. I couldn't play football or do wrestling anymore, but I could help with the bakery still. If my leg starts to hurt too much I can sit on a stool. No one is ever in the back to see my stumble because of a limp except my father or brother, and they say nothing about it. It's almost a sort of refuge, that place.

By quarter to five I'm restless and annoyed by my thoughts and decide it's time for a shower. I bring the water to a warm temperature even though I favor cold showers, especially in the morning. The warmth helps the ache and I feel like it's all I can think about right now and all I could for the past day. I sigh, but remember dinner last night. My brother asking for me to pass him the corn and mid pass, asking if I found a way home without him alright. There was a smirk on his face, maybe, or maybe in my bitterness that I still had over it I just imagined it there so I could watch it swipe off.

"Johanna Mason drove me home," I tell him, and a grimace stares me down as he gripped his fork hard.

"Don't take a ride from her again," He demands.

"Don't leave me without a ride again," I counter. He is trying to tell me who could and couldn't drive me? I didn't give a damn about the fact that he can't deal with someone actually not liking him but doing something that seemed nice for me. Rides from Johanna Mason weren't something that was to become a habit, but fuck if I was going to let him tell me who could volunteer to drive me home when he decided to just duff me.

"I'll have no arguing at the dinner table." Mother's voice is sharp and brought us back in from our anger. I saw the way that her eyes were trained on me and I ducked my head. I got the point. The argument is my fault. I'm not to step out of line. Jakob is, and always was, a golden sort of kid to my mother. It's weird, because people always think that the middle child gets the least amount of love, not the first and precious oldest and not the babied youngest. But Jakob was always a sort of favorite, my birth not overshadowing him. He was happy for that, and I guess I was too. I've seen over the years the kind of stress and pressure that Jakob always hides. I've felt it too, of course, but it didn't feel the same. It _wasn't_ the same. He has an underlying fear of disappointing mother and father when I know that I already have disappointed mother and father won't ever let me know if he truly is disappointed as well. It's a sort of relief, that my stress and pressure, on those accounts at least, is all basically personal.

I get a umbrella when I finally am done and dressed, ready to walk to the bakery. It'll take a solid ten minutes to walk there this morning instead of the usual six, and I would rather keep all the rain off of me that I can. Jakob sometimes helps as well, but as he took more responsibilities at school with sports and clubs, less was expected of him. Before school shifts weren't necessary. I wonder sometimes if that was the reason he started doing everything, but know that's not true. He just wanted those things on his applications, always since entering high school he had a one track mind with what would get him into a good school. The bakery is not something he wants to follow in the footsteps of. Neither does Cole, who's studying at MIT. I once asked him about classes and ended up in a daze when he tried to explain it to me. I think he wanted to have it all go over my head. All I know is that he wears ties and dress pants to classes, something that isn't ever considered for any bakery day. He does not want it.

It's a good thing that I enjoy the bakery and it's haven to me, because I'll most likely be getting it at the end of this all.

The complete warmth I get from the place as I open the door is astounding. The literal heat feels great against the cold rain outside, but it's the overall warmth that is a feeling deep inside that I love. Even after the accident, I still love this place. I don't know how, or why. I wake up from nightmares of it. I can't sleep at night. However this place is not the place of my nightmares. It's where I work side by side with my father. It's where my brother will sometimes joke with me like we did when we were young. With the accident (_Tragedy,_ my mother insists, and insists upon the entire town to insist upon), it wasn't the bakery. It was just some pit of hell and nightmares that was contained and we escaped. It was cleaned up.

In my nightmares, the peeling green paint is something I stare at. It was something I stared at when it was happening. I told my father and he made sure that the walls were painted in a deep, rich brown.

He greets me as I step into the back with a "morning son," and I get right to work. Only getting an hour in means I try and do as much as possible in as little time as possible, but my father stops me as I'm about to start kneading the cinnamon bread.

"We got a call for a wedding cake," he lets me know, showing me the order.

"When's it for?" I ask, scanning the type of decorating they want rather than all of the other information on top. _Three tiers, set in an off-white fondant. Piping around all the edges, and a lattice work on the edges of the cake. Done in same color as fondant. Tulips in the light and dark purple, with gold accents. _

"They need it in two weeks." I raise my eyebrows at him and he shrugs. Last minute wedding cakes come in sometimes, and it's a good thing we aren't particularly busy right now and can do it. _Vanilla flavoring with a small in-layer of chocolate. Banana custard filling, top tier with a mocha filling. _"I was wondering if you'd do the fondant and icing of it and all."

I look up at him and smile. I've done my fair share of cakes by myself at this point, but a wedding cake? Never the whole thing. Never by myself. "I'd love to."

He smiles back and lets me get back to work. I immerse myself fully into what I'm baking, not thinking about the wedding cake, not thinking about the pop quiz we'll most likely have in history, and not thinking about the fact that there is a party tonight that I'm actually nervous about. I knead it and then set it. In my one hour that I have before school, it's usually best for me to just do a lot of prep. So I get a bunch of dough ready for my father to just throw into the ovens and then display and watch as it disappears into the hands of buyers.

Soon enough I'm taking my apron off and washing my hands, looking quickly into the mirror to see if there is any flour or dough stuck anywhere that is visible that I could get off so as to not make a fool of myself. As I come through the front, I see my father talking with Haymitch Abernathy. I frown a bit to myself, but then wave in his direction. He's more of a story than a real person around here most of the time, but he used to always come into the bakery early in the morning for a bread. He hasn't been around in over a year, so I wasn't sure if he just moved away. People liked to make up stories about what happened. People are cruel in what they have to say about him.

"You still limping?" The old man asks me as I make my way to the front, his attention breaking from my father and moving to me for just a bit.

Well, he's a bit of a cruel man himself.

I just nod, and let a quick smile pass at him. "Yeah, Haymitch. Weather's not helping."

He snorts and shakes his head. "I get it. I have a bad arm. I threw it out years ago when I...well just years ago." Of course he wasn't going to tell me how. He likes that he is made up of stories, none of them what he truly is. "Rain don't help. Try and keep dry."

I consider for a split second being sarcastic to the man. Keep dry? No, I want to just sit and let myself be soaked by the downpour. But I just mutter a thank you to the man and go on my way as I hear Jakob's car pull up to the front and beep. He's a surly man and the fact that he attempted at somewhat advice is more than I ever imagined was possible from the man.

The car ride to school is quiet, the radio making all the noise that is needed between the two of us. The sounds of the song by REM comes through, a voice declaring _this one goes out to the one I love_ brings us into the parking lot and my brother quickly shuts off the radio and car as we step out.

"I'll see you after class," he mutters to me before going on my way. If there was one thing my drive home by Johanna guaranteed it is that my brother will not bail out on me for the next couple of weeks. The bell is soon to ring so I make my way as fast as possible to my locker for books and get into the classroom right before it sounds. My eyes automatically go to the back corner where Katniss Everdeen sits, to find her today sitting there looking at me. I look away quickly, cheeks red as hell I'm sure, and take my seat. I can't look at her at all this period due to the seating and I think that is a good thing. She never looks back at me in class and yet, here she was, looking at me when I came in. Did Johanna already ask her to go to the party tonight? Did Johanna tell her how I've been in love with her since I first saw her?

Knowing Johanna, she'd say it in a horrible way. She'd make it extremely inappropriate. God, it takes everything in me to not just ask for a bathroom pass and sit in the hallway banging my head against the lockers until I knock myself unconscious. I can only imagine what kind of perverted twisted fool Johanna could have painted me out to be.

A voice in my head tries to reason. Maybe Johanna didn't say any of that. Maybe she didn't even get around to telling them all about the party. It's only the next day. Johanna didn't seem like the kind of person to call up a girlfriend on a telephone to gossip or talk parties and boys. Maybe I caught her eye just because of the simple fact that I walked in as the bell rang. I look up sometimes as well if someone comes in almost late, catching their eye. That's all it was. I repeat that in my head. _All it was, all it was._ I'll have to keep my faith in Johanna, that she does, somehow, someway, have my best intentions in her heart.

I'm so fucked.

Classes go by slow and I don't really pay attention until math comes along. Again, she's in the class, only the seating is a bit better. This class we were given assigned seats, and Katniss' seat is just one over and across from me. The hour is filled with me looking at her braid and random numbers trying to spill out of my head. I should be paying more attention, we're going over pre-calc and I need to know these things for the test that's bound to be just around the corner. It's just so easy to have my head glued on the chalkboard up front while my eyes wander just slightly to the left, to where she sits diligently taking notes. And I can't help it. She may be going to the party tonight. Going on my invite. Well, mine indirectly. Going on my invite to Johanna which she dragged out of me so she could invite the others. Maybe outside of the school environment I'd gain a courage to talk to her. I have to. This is getting ridiculous, if I'm being honest with myself.

The decision I made all those years ago is simple enough. It was more of two, I guess. The first was that I was in love with Katniss Everdeen. Still very true. The second was that Katniss Everdeen would be my first kiss. At sixteen years old, I'm one of those unheard of species in the category never been kissed. At times, it was almost hard work. Girls have tried to kiss me before, or expected me to try and kiss them. I've been on dates. God, the first date I went on I even felt like I couldn't hold the girl's hand, as if I was _betraying_ myself with just that. I got over that. I haven't been on a lot of dates, but a couple. And I'd hold their hand. And usually they'd expect me to kiss them goodnight. Sometimes they'd go in for it themselves.

I always evaded it. Giving them a goodnight hug or once even just darting out of there. Or like Johanna brought up, I one time _bowed_ to a girl. I couldn't give them that though, my first kiss. It sounds stupid probably, but I didn't want just some girl after a first date to have it. Or any kiss from me, for that matter. A kiss is a meeting of two lips in a agreement of attraction and affection, and with the one date girls I've been around it's only been one sided if any. It felt like a precious thing, this whole idea of My First Kiss, and it was mine to decide who it'd be for. And I decided long ago who it'd be. All I had to do of course, was to get her to want to kiss me.

At the rate I'm going, I wouldn't be surprised if my tombstone proclaims for all to know that I died kissless.

I'm barely contained jitters by the time lunch rolls around. The talk is completely and absolutely about Colton's party, and I listen. Somewhat. I look over to their lunch table every now and then, and see that every now and then they're looking at ours. Johanna catches my eye at one point and sends me a big wink, the other three all turning to look in my direction. I try to stop looking over there. Delly notices my red face but doesn't question.

Lunch is almost over when it's asked.

"Did you get the word out to anyone about the party, Peet?" Elyssa asks me.

Vaguely, somewhere in my mind I recognize the fact that I should lie. That I should tell them no, like I do whenever they have a party. I show up, have a beer or two, and then walk home or bum a ride from a DD. Or sometimes I just don't drink. My father says that I can call him whenever I need a ride, no matter what state I'm in, but the idea of phoning home and having my mother pick up would make me want to walk fifty miles home instead.

But I should lie. I should say no, not anyone, not this time. I never invite anyone, so it wouldn't be a big deal and it'd pass by unnoticed. Instead, my mouth betrays me. "I told Johanna Mason about it. She said her and her friends might come."

A silence follows my statement and I don't dare look up. I notice that it's the most quiet our table has probably ever been. I can feel daggers being stared into my head by Delly. I will not look at Delly.

"Johanna Mason? The senior?" I recognize the silence as disbelief. I get it. I never invite anyone to a house party these people throw, and then when I do, it's a senior. It's not even like me and my brother are close, and that it's him and/or his friends. To them this is completely out of the left field.

It's completely out of left field to me too.

Delly understands it a bit more, I guess, another reason to not look up at her. I just nod. "My brother bailed on me yesterday and she offered me a ride home. We talked. It came up, she said she might stop by with a couple of people." My eyes trail a bit over to their table but I quickly bring them back because dammit Katniss Everdeen is looking over here right now and if I give them any attention I know for a fact this entire table will look over at all of them and make a big deal of doing so.

"Cool man. Cool that's...that's awesome!" Colton finally says, and everyone joins in agreement. I sigh to myself in relief as they continue talking, Victor saying how he'll have to talk to his older brother who's buying a lot of the booze to make sure that there's some sophisticated crap, as if he could impress Johanna Mason the senior.

The bell rings and Delly is immediately at my side. "What the hell is going on?" She whispers.

I continue, throwing out my trash and heading to my locker. "Johanna drove me home. She heard about the party and wanted an invite. She's going to invite a couple of people."

"Does she know–"

"Yes, Delly, okay? She figured it out because apparently I'm all too transparent when it comes to this." I try to calm myself down, hearing how irritable my voice sounds. "I didn't even want to tell her, I didn't mean to. She figured it out. And she told me to invite her and she'd get her to the party." This is such a stupid idea. Why couldn't I just say no, that they shouldn't try to come to this party. That I'm fine being a coward and never getting to actually know Katniss Everdeen and forever to remain wondering how it'd feel to have her lips on mine.

Johanna and Katniss walk past us then, Katniss looking at me and her eyes flitting away as Johanna slaps my back as she goes by. "See you later, Blondie!" She calls out and makes her way down the hallway. Katniss tries to look over at me again, but sees me looking. She turns away, like she always does. Not that I can blame her, exactly. She smells of the woods now, of outdoors mixed with vanilla, but I'll never forget when she smelt like smoke. I know she doesn't forget that smell either, even if I never talked to her. You don't just forget that smell.

"Well, whatever happens, it'll sure be an interesting night, huh Peeta?"

I nod, distracted at the thought and how this is all just really, really, a bad idea. "Yeah, interesting." Delly heads off and Madge comes around, as if it's some trade off of blonde girls I'm walking with.

"So Johanna had some interesting news for us at lunch." Madge starts off and I'm dreading the next thing she's going to tell me. That Katniss snuck those looks at me because Johanna decided to say something like how she was the first person I had a wet dream about and how it made me fall in love with her.

Mind you, that is slightly true. But I was already in love with her. But she doesn't need to know that, no one needs to know that.

"I figured as much." I decide my entire fate, past present and future, in this school district depends solely on what Johanna Mason told them.

"She said she drove you home, and that you invited her and all of us to a house party. Oh, well I guess more of we have an obligation to go. We have to go. There's no way out of it for us."

I chuckle slightly, partly at how Johanna was extremely determined in not even getting a no for an answer let alone having to take it, but also out of relief that she didn't reveal what she discovered yesterday.

"So she caught wind of who you've been pining for all of these years?" Madge asks me and I look over at her. "We might've talked separately. She might've gotten a bit rude to me that I didn't tell her."

"I don't understand why she is so fixated on this idea of me being in love with Katniss," I mutter under my breath and look around quickly, making sure no one can hear me.

"She's said it to you, I'm pretty sure. She has this thing about getting rid of the pure of a person. She's been on Katniss' case about it since we were eleven, telling her to kiss a boy, and use her tongue in it for fucksake. Quite an enlightening friend to have around, let me tell you. But now she's found a boy hopelessly wrapped up in love with the girl, and also in need of getting rid of his own purity. Two birds, one stone."

I shake my head. "This is going to end so badly. There's no way it can end well."

Madge smiles at me. "Who knows, _Peet,_ maybe you'll be kissed tonight." Madge shrieks as I chase her the rest of the way down the hallway and the two of us are laughing by the time we get to our seats. We quiet down, and get on with our work, on and off talking about the party. I'm glad she's going, I'm probably going to need moral support from someone who understands my dilemma but isn't as brash as Johanna. Delly will be there but she tends to go all out at parties like these.

When I get to my brother's car at the end of the day, he's leaning against it and fiddling with his car keys. He gets in without saying a word, and I do the same. "I have to pick up some things," he mutters to me, and we start our trek. I'm confused, but don't say anything, as we make our way to the other side of town, the other side of the train tracks. To the Seam.

I never knew that my brother would ever willingly go here. Our mother taught us that beyond the train tracks lie the trash of the world all rounded up in one area. Nicer people (although the amount of them is low) from our part of town would just say that the people were just trying to make due. As we drive, the trees surrounding get denser. The Seam is surrounded by beautiful thick woods, something I always admired and envied. Growing up I always wondered what it'd be to have the forest, something seemingly magical to me, right there in your backyard. Driving through it now my fingers itch, as if all they want to do is sketch out the place they see.

Back on our side, we have woods too, I suppose. They've been cut down for the most part years ago though, trees sparse. Nothing like the dense expansive area that I see surrounding here. I want my own car. I want to be able to travel these roads whenever I want and get lost in the place surrounded by trees.

We stop soon enough, and I see that we're at the small deli-slash-marketplace at the edge of the Seam. The Hob. I've been in there only once a long time ago, and I am itching to go back in. But when I go to take off my seat belt my brother stops me. "Wait for me," he tells me, and gets out of the car. I see that he has my door locked as well, had it as we were driving through as if trying to stop people from getting us. I shake my head and wonder what he needs to get, but don't really care. He's not going to tell me.

By the time we're driving back home I feel almost at ease, which is a bit surprising. I'm still nervous though, nervous as hell. But god, dare I say it? I'm a bit excited too. I think back to what Madge said, poking fun at me, and can't help but smile a little. Maybe, just maybe, this will be the night I get a kiss from Katniss Everdeen.


	3. rhiannon

**a/n:** next part! thanks again for the response to this fic – it's quite overwhelming! I know a lot of you people were looking forward to the party, and so here we go with it. I love reading your predictions in the reviews. I have a good amount of this planned out, have had it planned out, and it's great to read where you all think it's heading. I know a lot of people were questioning about the fire and the smoke – that's been addressed a bit in this part. It'll be dissected more probably in the next chapter/throughout the fic. Heads up for more sassy Johanna. Actually, basically mostly sassy Johanna. I was going to add more interactions, but I cut it off a bit earlier because I got a pit carried away and more interactions will come out next one. Thanks~

Please refer to the M rating of this fic.

* * *

_she rings like a bell through the night and_  
_wouldn't you love to love her?_  
_she rules her life like a bird in flight and_  
_who will be her lover?_  
**rhiannon | fleetwood mac**

**.03.**

She's in front of me, sitting alone on the couch and looking uncomfortable. Her eyes glance sideways as she takes a slight sip from her cup. The music is pounding and there are other people in this room. I think. I don't know. I just see her on that big couch, sitting alone.

I have my own cup in my hands and I take a quick drink. I take a quick deep breath. I sit down next to her._ This is it. _"Hey Katniss." I want to just leave now. My voice is uneasy and nervous.

But I don't leave because I hear her voice. "Hi Peeta."

I look at her, surprised, and she chuckles a bit as she hides a blush in her drink. "I didn't realize you knew my name."

"Of course I know your name, Peeta. Peeta Mellark." She has the taunt of a smile on her face and she looks amused. I wonder if it's possible to fall in love with the same person multiple times, over stretches of five seconds because that's what it feels like. "You work at your parent's bakery. You used to wrestle and play football but can't since..." She shakes her head and I can't find words. She continues. "You're in my history, english and math class this year. You invited Johanna and all of us here. I've heard another rumor about you too."

I blink and just look at her. "What rumor?"

My god is she coming closer to me? It's not just my imagination, her cup is on the table nearby, mine somehow there as well, and she is closer. She's leaning, so that her face is right in front of mine. There's distance, but barely any. I wonder vaguely if I would be pissed about my personal space bubble being popped if it was someone else in this situation, but this is Katniss. She can get as close as possible and it still won't be close enough. "There's a rumor..." Her finger trails down my chest, slowly, and I shiver. A slight twitch in my pants lets me know just how much I am enjoying this. "Just some idle gossip, really..."

"What is that?" I try and focus on her face but she's watching her hand as it dances up and down up and down on my chest.

"Word is, you have a crush on me," she says in a whisper. Her face is closer to mine, and my heart is beating hard in my mind, in my chest, everywhere. I'm silent, only I'm not because I'm breathing too loud. Too loud. And I can hear my blood rushing in my ears as her face gets closer to me. I know that the blood is rushing down, away from my brain and my jeans feel like they're tightening. Dammit I cannot think straight and I have to. What do I say? How do I say anything? Everything is Katniss and all I feel is the effect she has on me.

"So? Do you?" She asks and god she is even closer. She moved, and she's now right in front of me and crouched down so that her head is level with mine. Her hands are on my knees and if she moved her eyesight down, she'd be able to see how hard I am. I lick my lips subconsciously.

"I–" I start off and falter. I don't know what to say. I don't know how to react. She smiles at it, as if my inability to talk is either a joke or endearing. I don't know which.

"You?"

"Yes," I breathe out and she breathes me in as she gets closer and her lips glue to mine. Her mouth opens instantly and I react. Our tongues move together and vaguely in my mind, I think that I really am kissing Katniss Everdeen. And not some sweet, chaste awkward first kiss where teeth bump, but a kiss. A _real _kiss, where our mouths are open and our eyes are shut. She gets closer and sits on my lap. But she doesn't stop kissing me. Her hands are on my face, holding me there as if I would actually leave. She gets closer. And then she's sitting there, right on top of me and I think for a minute I should be embarrassed because she can definitely feel how I feel about her kissing me, how I most definitely have something more than just a crush on her. She stops kissing me and looks at me with a smirk as she rolls her hips into mine and kisses my neck.

I wake up with a moan stuck in my mouth. And then a curse.

Of course it's a dream, something too good to be true. I dream about her too much, and if I don't dream about her it's about the fire. How it turns out with sleep is either waking up disappointed with a hard-on, or waking up in terror, my hands instantly going to my leg to feel my scar. And of course before the party I decided to take a nap. And of course I had a dream in which a better outcome than I could even hope for happened at the party.

I sigh and look down. Yup, completely hard. When I first woke up from a dream like this of Katniss and the obvious effects, I was ashamed. I felt like I was crossing a boundary, thinking of her in such a way that was completely of body and lust. I got over that quickly enough though, and gave in. I tried to, a couple of times, to get off on the idea of a girl who wasn't dark haired, usually in a braid but it was sprawled out for me. I tried to imagine someone without the dark olived skin and toned body, with the freckles that you can't see right away. It was no use, and did nothing for me. And I _am_ a teenage boy. That is a viable excuse, so I use it. I can't help it. My body reacts, my body needs, and well, it's not like I'm even kissing anyone let alone have a different way to relieve this tension.

No matter what I try to imagine, it always becomes her again. Not one of my more romantic endearments I have, but that's how it is.

I decide to shower and take care of what I have to, killing two birds with one stone. After I got back from school I worked a good two hours in the bakery, running around and doing as much as I could so the fact that I wasn't working tonight would be fine. Dad says he's fine regardless, that I didn't have to pack in that extra work for two hours and could just enjoy a friday fully to myself like most highschoolers, but I still helped. I work all this weekend too, and I'm fine with that. I don't want to leave him tonight though, that's not fair. And I know that Jakob isn't going to help. So I put in two hours and took a nap.

And now I desperately need a shower.

I make my way into the bathroom and get in under the water. I sigh as I see that I'm still completely hard, and my hand makes its way to start pumping. The idea of my dream, of being at the party and kissing Katniss Everdeen, is too much so I try something different instead and all I can imagine is her pulling me into some janitor's closet at school. It's a pathetic sort of dream up, but it gets the job done and soon enough I come undone. It's easier in the shower, and after I just get on my way with washing up. I get out, towel off, and make my way back into my room to get dressed. Just a simple black t-shirt and jeans. This is not a dress up party and, if I'm being honest, I am overanalyzing. I am thinking of Katniss of course, and I know for fact that whatever she wears if she even shows up, will not be all polished. Besides that, I have a feeling that she is not one to be impressed by someone's state of dress. If anything, overdressing could get a scoff or roll of the eyes, at best.

Ostentatious is not a good look, and definitely not one that Katniss enjoys.

Why do I let myself care this much? I am too wrapped up in all of this. I _always_ dress like this to any damn party I go to but suddenly there's _reasons_ to it, besides the shirt was clean or at least smelled it. I'm hopeless. It's going to be another damn party, but maybe I'll just have Katniss Everdeen to look at and not talk to at all because we all know that I won't gather the courage to do so. Kiss her? I scoff aloud at the thought. There's not going to be kisses tonight.

My dream's images flash through my mind and I quickly try to run through recipes of different breads to distract myself. I consider calling and letting Colton know I came down with one of those twenty-four hour bugs (you know, with the name of mortification and dread), but I know I can't. For one, I would have to strangle myself if I (indirectly) actually got Katniss Everdeen to come to a party and then didn't go. That, and I know that Johanna Mason would destroy every bone in my body and stop my bloodflow if I even considered not going.

The rain finally cleared up, and although my leg still aches, I start walking my way to Colton's. He lives deeper in our part of the Town, which just translates to more money. Farther removed from the Seam means better off, as if the place is some parasitic area that feasts upon money. It's about a fifteen minute walk and although I'll probably be annoyed with the ache later in the evening, I welcome it. The chilly air is a definite welcome and it seems to clear my mind every time a gust of wind comes through. Which is what I need.

I come up to Colton's soon enough, and see a couple but not many cars there. That's not surprising; for one, not everyone could drive. Not everyone goes for their license right away, seeing as how anything you'd ever need is in walking distance. The other reason is that even if people can drive, not everyone has a car. Most in the Seam don't, but a good lot of us on the other side of the train tracks don't as well. They're a bit nerve-wracking, if I'm being honest. Sometimes necessary, but overall I'd much rather an aching walk than a car. I open the door and see a good chunk of people already inside and I hear the music blasting. A lot of people are opening the glass door in the kitchen, letting themselves out onto the lawn. Packs of different beers stood in their boxes at the corner of the kitchen table. More are piled upon it, along with some hard liquor.

"Peeta!" I hear someone call my name and turn to see a group walking towards me. Victor, Delly, and Elyssa are coming towards me, drinks in hand and, judging by how much Delly is swaying, already a couple of drinks in.

"Hey guys," I tell them, picking up one of the no named beers and allowing myself to take a sip.

"So the people that are here right now is the crew," Colton started explaining to all of them as he came over, slapping my shoulders and taking a swig of his own drink. "Everyone else'll get here within a half hour, so let's get going on the drinking. Peeta, the others already know but there's a bonfire outside that we're all going to."

I hide my nervous gulp in my drink. Really? A bonfire? Upon everything, I have to deal with this? "No thanks," I tell them, my nerves on high alert and my tension, even I can read it on myself.

"Alright... Well see you!" He says and they make they're way out. Delly looks over at me and I mouth an "I'm fine" as she smiles and heads out.

A bonfire. I invited Katniss Everdeen to a party with a bonfire. I don't know what her feeling is of fire, with something even as small as a bonfire, but I have an idea that it's not good. Worse than mine, definitely. But I don't talk to her, and even if I did, what she thinks about fires, and what I do, is the last thing I'd want to talk about.

In the year that I was fourteen, the whole town dealt with two tragedies and both hit me hard I guess. The first one a bit literally. Early on in the school year, an accident caused a fire in the bakery. It wasn't that big a tragedy really, just an almost-tragedy moreof. Needless to say, the loss of the product and such could bring more emotion to my mother than any feeling I could hope to see on her when I finally get my diploma. But our standings in being a part of the Town, from the right side of those traintracks, along with mother's insistence, has put the fire in the bakery two years ago only second to one other disaster. I was always a clumsy kid, and of course the day of our fire was no different. I tripped as the fire roared behind me. As my family already got out and the firefighters were making their way in. I remember thinking, '_My god this is it, I'm going to die, I'm going to die._' It seemed like the only thing that could run through my mind, the words that were repeating the only scenario I could envision: I was going to die. When I think back on it, I never was going to die. All I did was trip, and besides, firefighters, like I said, were on their way in. But I fell, and all I could register was the heat of the flames as they tangoed closer and closer, and the walls of the bakery were the only things I could focus on. Pain flashed upon me and woke me up and I was able to push myself off the floor and got out of the place. It was a piece of burning metal, and after I got out and away from the danger, I could actually feel it. It gave me my limp. It gave me my scars. But it also woke me up and made it so I could save myself. No one else was hurt.

The other tragedy, the _true _tragedy, happened the same year, and it was a fire as well. Only, it was a home and not just a place of business. The home is still intact now, which is said to be some sort of miracle. It was late at night when it happened, a gas leak from the stove. The father of the household was in the kitchen, and I overheard adults talking of how it seemed that he was right in the line of fire, quite literally. He had no chance.

The home overall maybe was given the miracle of survival, but Mister Everdeen did not recieve such luck.

The second fire within a week, the only two fires that year. Fires usually happen every now and then, but no other fires graced the place that year. They're usually small and contained, but the one at the bakery consumed product and the one in the Everdeen household consumed a life.

Fire, it seemed to be catching.

"Ah, Bread Boy!" A voice snaps me out of me being lost in thoughts. I notice that I am standing near the glass door just staring at the bonfire as I hold onto my drink. I take a deep breath. Parties are meant to unwind one. I turn and take a sip to greet Johanna.

"Thanks for the new name, Johanna. Hi," I say, and she comes in with people trailing her.

She smirks. "Yeah well, we already got this Blondie here, and it's going to get confusing to keep calling both of you the same name. Now be polite and greet our other guests." Johanna takes her leather jacket and flings it off of her and acts as if she doesn't see all of the eyes that are glued to her. She goes right to pouring herself a drink.

I look to the others. "Hi Madge. Katniss. Gale." I keep it even, slipping her name between the others. Madge greets me quietly but fully and goes about making herself a drink. Gale nods and does the same. Katniss stands there for a bit and nods as she mutters a hello to me, not looking in my eyes. Well, here I am, right? I need to stop falling into self doubt and losing myself in memories and just exist in now. Katniss is in front of me. I'm slightly completely in love with her. I need to have a conversation with her.

"So–"

"Alright, Mellark, come on over here." I'm seriously just going to punch Johanna Mason. I don't care if she's the reason that Katniss is here or anything, she just tugs me away from her and brings me to her. I think that she's bringing me over to the others, and maybe Katniss will join us after that, but it's just me and her. She looks over to Katniss, who's watching us intently. "Go on now, Brainless. Scamper along. I'll send Bread Boy to find you later to inflict conversation upon you but you're on your own now. Us grown ups need to talk." Her hand was over my shoulders. I watch Katniss' eyes flicker to mine and then go back to Johanna's quickly, as if she's much more comfortable for her to look at than me. She quickly picks up a beer and heads off and away.

I take Johanna's hand off of me. "What the hell was that for, _Mason_?"

She snickers and takes a big gulp of her drink. "What, were you about to woo her right there? You have a lot to learn, and good thing I am here for you to learn it. Now, I need to know the full extent of your situation. You said you've been..." She searches for a word and her hand moves fast in front of her as she tries for something. "you've been whatever the hell it is you feel for her since you first met her, yes?"

"Yes." My answer is quiet. I want her to quiet down. Thank god everyone is talking and drinking and there is loud music.

"Alright, now what would would you use for this? You like her? You wanna fuck her? You want to take her one a couple of dates and start something just to break it off?"

"Christ, Johanna. I'm in love with the girl, alright? Are you happy? There. I said it to you. Now you know as well. I'm. In. Love. With her."

Her face is amused, and she takes another sip of her drink. "Yeah, figured you'd tack that word onto it. You're a bit early with using it though, don't you think?"

"No."

"How many conversations have you had with her?" She asks me.

I scowl. "I–"

"How many times did you ever hold her hand? Touch her? Kiss her? Make love to her? That's what love is made of."

I stop her. "No, Johanna. Now _you're_ wrong. I get it okay, you're the Highly Knowledgeable Senior and you know all about the world and how shitty it is. But love isn't all of those physical things, god. If I didn't know better I'd say that you've never been in love."

She raises one of her eyebrows at me. I'm sure she's just surprised as I am at my outburst. "I have no need or use of it."

"Right, of course. So you see it as some thing that comes from physical acts. But, no. That's not it! She makes me feel weak in my knees. My insides churn whenever I catch her eyes if I'm looking at her. She lights up a whole room. She's beautiful inside and out, and cares so much for her sister it's so easy to see. She's a great older sibling. She has a hard exterior, but if you pay attention, there's some people that can get through. It's amazing, _she's_ amazing. I want to get through. I want her to let me in. I want to see what it's like to hold her hand, because I know that there would be a spark. I want her to feel it as well." I'm talking nonsense, and even more to Johanna. I try and stop myself so that I can't do more damage than I already have.

"Alright, Lover Boy, alright, now let's slow down. So you have these _feelings_ inside for her. And you sound so determined and sure of it, and of her. Do you really know what she's like though? Do you know anything about her, truly? You have the idea of her, which, yeah, what you've told me of the girl right there sounds like something I'd want to jump on right away. But do you really know her? You need to communicate with the girl, alright? Before you jump to conclusions with this weighty word, you have to actually know the face behind all of that wonderful crap. People don't like her. I know, people don't like me either. I get it, both of us in our own ways are hard to swallow. But me and you, we've talked, right?"

More of you told me what to do. "Right."

"Am I different than what you thought I was?"

I think to how I saw Johanna. A crude and bawdy person with no regards to people's personal information or space. After the couple of days I've talked to her, I've come to the conclusion that she is exactly that. But there's more. There's this side of her, the one where she talks to you like you're a little child who knows nothing but is really, in the end looking out for you. I know that she's beating this in my head for my own good. That she is looking out for me even. There is a good side to Johanna Mason, it's just mixed in with that whole part that she said, the idea of Johanna Mason. She wants to help me figure out Katniss, at least I think she does. It's as Madge says I guess, where she wants to rid me and her both of our purity, but it's still some twisted way of her caring.

"You're different." I answer quietly, and set my drink down.

"Right. People, when you know them, are even stranger than you thought them to be. Or worse. Or better even. All I'm saying is learn who the damn girl is before you fucking decide that she's the only person that could ever have your heart." Another drink is poured and I wait as she gulps a good part down. I look around for a familiar face to run to once Johanna's advice time is done but cannot find any.

"Now, we have another matter to deal with," she says and I look over at her again, focusing my attention at her. What else could she possibly say?

"So you're whole...bowing to dates or whatever. It's because you think you're in love with Brainless?"

I roll my eyes at her determination in using 'think you're in love'. "Yes." Whereas I just a day ago didn't want to tell Johanna anything, any of this, I find myself now just straight up answering. It's easier, and I find myself okay with it. I think also of how I said I couldn't understand how someone would be friends with her, and I'm starting to realize that there is in fact a way, and well, I may be on it.

"So you've never kissed a girl?"

My cheeks burn despite the fact that it's an obvious known answer to me. I didn't really care that much, really, that I've never been kissed. There's only one person I want to kiss, and I made the decision to not run around and have meaningless ones. So that's entirely on me. I get it. But it's when other people talk about it and discuss it. I suddenly feel like I'm some pariah or unknown creature under the microscope that they don't know what to do with. It's unnerving, and I feel myself start to tense up regardless of the slow ease I found myself in with Johanna. "Right."

She shook her head. "No, we can't have that. Listen, you want to kiss Katniss?" I can only nod. "So you have to work on the whole, you know, letting her know of your existence thing. Whatever. Let's say you do, and you get to the point where you want to kiss her and she wants to kiss you. So you kiss her. And it's your first kiss. Tell me, do you want it to be a good kiss?"

"What kind of question is that? Yes."

"Then you're an idiot. Look, whatever. I'm not telling you to go hook up with everyone because we all know you won't. You're missing out, but, whatever I won't hold it against you. What I'm saying is is that your first kiss always sucks. My first, I didn't know what I was doing. The guy was so enthusiastic that he bit my bottom lip and tugged until I bled. Mind you, later on down the line I found a way to do that where it feels good, but that doesn't matter with this. It was chunky and awkward and I still look back in it in shame. And I'm glad I don't talk to that guy anymore. Because it was off, and not good. Now I know, I know. I've heard of people who have had amazing first kisses that start off the rest of their lives with that person, but let's look at the facts. Just talking to Brainless scares you shitless. Do you trust yourself to be able to lock her lips in pure enjoyment of intimacy of the moment like your mind has conjured up throughout the years?"

The answer is simple, and one I already knew although I never let myself think that realistically about actually kissing her. "No."

She smiles. "That's all we need to hear, Lover Boy. Now come here, and don't kill me."

I raise my eyebrows at her in question to her words but step closer. She sets her drink down, and the next thing I know she's holding my face and her lips are on mine. Kissing me. My first kiss. Johanna Mason is my first kiss.

My eyes open wide in realization. I want to push her off of me. I want to go back to two seconds to where she said to come closer and walk away. I want to have not listened to anything she said. She knows for a fact, just went over it with me, that I was saving my goddamn first kiss.

I finally gather enough coherency in my brain to push her off of me. She takes a deep breath and so do I, rubbing my lips. My just kissed lips. "How was that?" She asks me as she picks her drink up again.

"Horrible."

"Good. For me it was that and illegal. I am eighteen you know. God. Anyway, you're pissed at me."

"Yes." Seething. I want the day to never have happened. I'm confused and I don't know what's happening and I just want to lay in my bed or work in the bakery without ever stopping again.

"Don't be. You should be thanking me."

"You kissed me–"

"Right. And it was horrible. Which, sorry Lover Boy. It was also a bit one sided. Next time you slant your lips with someone make sure to kick in some action yourself. I wasn't kissing you because I _wanted_ to kiss you. I wanted to prove a point. You've had your first kiss. That's going to be your 'My First Kiss' story. It's _not_ going to be Katniss. You got that?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I got that point Johanna."

"Good. Now, go and find Katniss and talk to the girl and get to know her. This whole I'm-saving-my-first-kiss-for-you is no longer there in it. You'll be able to relax more with her, be yourself. Just get to know the damn girl, and stop freaking out over guarding yourself and your lips in the meantime. It's alright if you want to kiss girls while you're waiting for her to want to kiss you, mind you."

I'm silent. I don't know what to do. On one hand, it kind of makes sense. I almost have this "fuck it" attitude that I've been wanting to have about it all now that my years of planning have crashed down. I also have a feeling that's just my anger I'm still feeling for Johanna, and that no matter what Katniss will be able to make me be a blundering fool, first kiss or no.

Johanna shakes her head. "You're so wrapped up in the idea of her being _your_ first kiss... You never even thought of the possibility that you wouldn't be hers."

That stops my thoughts, and I look over at Johanna. I _didn't _think of that. Stupid. I assumed, all these years I guess, well if I wasn't kissing anyone she wasn't either. Stupid thought. Did she kiss someone? Who? I feel jealous slightly at whoever it was, but at the same time can't help but hope it was as horrible as the one that Johanna fit upon me.

"I'm not telling you anymore tonight, Lover Boy. You have a girl to talk to and I have booze to drink and a fine gentleman to seduce. Now where's that tall handsome hunk of man."

I leave her to her manhunt and take my drink (that I've not been drinking in who knows who long) as I walk out of the room. I look at everyone and they all seem to be minding their own business and not looking in my direction. I want to find Delly and all of them and forget everything in their mindless chatter and laughter and games, but I know they're out near the bonfire and I cannot deal with that. I want to find Madge, but all we'd talk about would be my situation. I'm selfish with Madge, I realize. I barely know anything about her besides the obvious and the real easy things. I know nothing deep of her. She knows my entire heart. It's something I should work on probably.

I think I'm just going to go home. I am on my way to putting on my jacket when I turn and see a big couch with a lone figure sitting upon it. Sitting alone and looking uncomfortable. Her posture is uncomfortable and she holds on tightly to her cup. There's a couple other people in the room. The music is loud. All I see is Katniss, and all I feel is my jacket in my hand.


	4. rhiannon, pt 2

**a/n:** the next part – I know a good deal of you have been waiting for this so sorry about that wait. Real life is trucking on ahead, which is a good deal of the reason why this took so long. I'm back up at Uni and my studios are long and draining early in the semester. I'll be updating as much as possible, but please realize that Real Life is a thing that sucks but exists. I also take a couple of nights to just sit and think of how these characters interact or would interact in situations. It may sound like an odd process but it's how I keep everything in (what I hope is) canon actions and feelings without forcing anything for a plot.  
Thank you for all of the reviews. I'm quite blown away at the amount, as well as follows/favorites for this story. I started this as a joke and it's getting a good deal of attention. So thanks to everyone that goes out of their way to review, it means a whole lot to see that people took their time to do so.  
I'm also glad that a great deal of you weren't terribly disappointed in the fact that his first kiss was stolen. Well I guess you were disappointed but..understanding. I guess that yes I'm doing a sort of High school romcom teen movie of the 90s, but I'm also trying to keep it very much in reality. You know, where high school is a bit on the shitty end and people are selfish and stupid and well, all sorts of lovely things. Johanna is such a fun character and she's taking over in ways that I never meant her to, really. Truly wish I had a Johanna Mason for some kissing lessons, aye? The next update shouldn't take as long. I'm organizing a to-do order for this fic, so yeah. hopefully we'll get the next written up during the weekend?

**atonings** is the reason this exists and we talk all about all the aus that I'm writing. The idea of this au literally came from me and her talking about cheesy songs from the 80s and 90s, in particular "Everytime" by Britney Spears. How deliciously cheesy and how deliciously Katniss/Peeta of a song. We'll get it into here, we have to tbh. I'm going to be trying to be getting more of my aus up here as well, but of course I have to get them from WIP to done so we'll see.

Some more Rhiannon lyrics since it's still the party. Also it's an awesome song and everyone needs to listen to some Fleetwood Mac

* * *

_all your life you've never seen_  
_a woman taken by the wind_  
_would you stay if she promised you heaven?_  
_will you ever win?_  
_she is like a cat in the dark and then_  
_she is darkness_  
_she rules her life like a fine skylark and when_  
_the sky is starless_  
**rhiannon | fleetwood mac**

**.04.**

I don't know what to do, or what I should do. In my mind, I sit down next to her, but then everything gets jumbled up in that familiar sight I see now with the things that happened in my dream earlier and I have to stop before I start walking around this goddamn party with a hard-on. I know _that's_ not going to happen, just like how I know that Katniss Everdeen isn't going to be (wouldn't be, _wasn't_) my first kiss.

I guess in my mind I always suspected, _knew_, that she wouldn't be my first kiss, or any of my kisses. The logical part of me, hidden far deep inside knew that already. That she never will want to feel anything like that for me, but I have to stop myself from going into a Pity Party Time for Peeta Mellark. She's not going to be my first kiss, fine. I'm still a bit pissed at Johanna, but I'm sure further down the road this'll be just one of those things we can laugh about, right? I need to know who Katniss is, who she truly is. Maybe I won't like who she really is and I won't be in love with her, and I can take other girls out on more than one date and actually kiss them at the end and not just shake their hand or _bow._

I don't know who I'm trying to kid though. I've seen how she interacts (or rather, doesn't) with other people over the years. How she reacted to me that one time. I know those walls are high and strong, and for some obviously masochistic reason I think that makes me love her more. Johanna said that it's too early for me to use that word but I don't care. Plus, like I said, I'm a bit pissed at her. And she can't hear my thoughts. I look at her on the couch, almost as if I'm willing for her to look up at me at the same time hoping and praying she doesn't see how much of an idiot I look like right now. I think the words over again: _I love you, I love you, I love you._ Is this the only way I'll be able to tell her these words? Trying to thought-speak them over to her? Am I going to start waving my hands around and use the Force for some Jedi Mind Trick or such? No, that can't be it. I can't. I have to go and talk to her, and eventually, I have to do it. I have to tell her I'm in love with her.

I take a step towards her as I hear my name called.

I turn and see Delly making her way over to me. Madge is behind her looking at me concerned, and I look at her in disbelief. I always say that Delly is friends with everyone but the sight of the two of them with some kind of interaction, even if Delly is a bit over the edge and most likely won't remember, is a strange sight for me. "Where you going, _Peeeet?_"

I suppress a groan. Drunk Delly means a Delly that forgets her auxiliary verbs as well as making sure to call me Peet instead of Peeta. I look and see that my jacket is still in my hand and suppress another groan. _Well I was just about to leave when I noticed Katniss Everdeen sitting alone on a couch, very much like an image I had just earlier in a nice wet dream of mine. Fancy I might talk to her._ That will go over well. I love Delly but she's a loud drunk that forgets what's appropriate to yell about and what's not. "I just got a little cold Delly, I'm not going anywhere." There. Now I have to stay at the party. Now I can't just leave. I may just be digging myself a deeper grave.

She looks at me confused. "It's not cold in here. Don't need that."

"Go back outside. I'll try and join in a bit, alright?" She nods and smiles at me, dragging Madge with her. The two of them smile at me once more and leave. I feel a bit upset with myself with how I dealt with Delly. She is drunk, alright, but she's also my friend. My best friend, and has been since we were children. I know I'm not going outside but I just wanted her gone. I should've just talked with her for a couple minutes until she started talking with someone else. I try and stop thinking about it, telling myself I'll deal with it on Monday at school. I know I probably won't though. She either won't remember or won't bring it up but basically I just got away with treating my friend a bit shitty because she is drunk. I don't want to be that, I don't ever want to do that. But I apparently have tunnel vision when it comes to a certain girl, and so I throw my jacket on the nearest table as I pick myself up a drink so as to have a reason to want to sit and mingle.

The couch is a bit old and it creaks as I sit down and I wince. I can feel her eyes on me and I mentally prepare within point-two seconds before turning to Katniss. "Hey Katniss."

She looks over at me and her face seems like a mask. And she turns back forward, looking away from me. "Hi Peeta."

_I didn't realize you knew my name._ I want to slap myself for that thought, for almost allowing that stupid sentence to leave my mouth. What the hell am I thinking? That I'm going to say that and soon enough she'll be flirting and coming closer and sitting on my lap, rolling her hips straight into my dick? Yeah, alright. I will steer clear of any dialogue like my dream had. Which won't be that hard, really.

"I'm glad you were able to make it tonight," I tell her, and start to panic. "All of you. It was great of you guys to come." I make sure to make it plural. God, I'm nervous but thankfully there's no irrational sweating or shaking. I take a sip of my beer and look at her.

"Is it?" She asks, only she says it more like a statement. She only looks over at me a couple of times. Her face is guarded, but every now and then I see a hint of the anger I was on the recieving end after the fires two years ago. This girl can really hold onto an undeserving grudge. I feel sick to my stomach, like I did those two years ago after it all. After the fire in the bakery, I had people in school coming up to me asking all about it, since I was there, and best eye witness to it all having been in the building as it started to ignite (and got out right before it was contained). I almost got a bit of a war hero status, everyone asking me how I made it out alive. Everyone wanting to see my bandaged left leg and praising my limp with clucks about my courage. My cane, which I was so embarrassed to walk into school with when I went back was a sort of trophy. There was a fire, and I survived. It told a story to all of them. It said how I was a survivor and it was a manisfestation of my courage. It told a lie.

I wasn't couragous. I fell, and as I laid there ready to give up, a burning piece of wood fell atop of my leg. The pain woke me up, and I got out.

That wasn't courage. I didn't have that then, and I don't have it now still as I sit next to the girl I'm in love with and try to think of something to say besides just spitting out my heart to her. When I stood in the hallway one week later after the fires, she suddenly walked past me closer than she ever had before then. And I still will swear to this day I could smell the smoke on her.

There was more than just smoke in the smell. Grief could be tasted in the air around her. Some people whispered that she smelled like the dead.

Like her father.

And with her grey eyes of sorrow and pain, they seemed like the fires' smoke themself. At first glance she seemed ready to cry but within a blink the tears were gone. Her face was stone. Was ash. She was then fatherless, that evening the memorial for her father was going to be held. And she met my eyes. I wanted to, was going to to her I was sorry. That she probably heard that too much during the day and that it did nothing and that I was. Maybe I'd put my hand on her shoulder. I can only imagine how quick she'd knock it off. But I never said so. I know she didn't want to hear it, still doesn't want to hear it, but I feel as if I owe her a sorry. A sorry that I never gave her in the past two years. I should've said it then, apologize for what happened but as well as for myself. For how people are treating me, and how they are treating her.

But I didn't, because her eyes locked on mine. Zeroed in. And in that moment I know she hated me, I could feel it.

And I get it. I'd hate me too in her position. I hate how people treated me. I was getting so much attention and praise and worry for what I went through. I didn't deserve it. With no real loss in the fire that I dealt with, there was only a positive light to shine through. People went out of their way to talk to me about it all. Katniss was always shy, but she used to be a bit more approachable. Not saying that people made a habit of approaching, but there was a possibility of it before. Her father died in the fire, and I know that a part of her died in it as well. A wall went up, and no one besides her friends she had before could ever hope to be on the inside.

I wanted to say something to her in the days that followed but I couldn't. The unobtainable girl of my dreams suddenly became even more unobtainable. One time I made up my mind to just say it, to just say _something_ and as I was near her someone came up to me to ask me how my leg was doing. To tell me how brave I was.

She looked right at me as they were saying those things. I can't even remember who it was telling me them. I just looked back at her. And then she walked away. I couldn't read her mind, but I may as well have. She knew I wasn't brave. She knew I was a coward. It hurt more, hearing it from her fake thoughts. Hurt more than my own self just recognizing the facts. We were reading at that time in English the text "Things Fall Apart," by Chinua Achebe. Of course we were. Of course on the day she came back to school, my teacher read aloud and stopped awkwardly after saying the line, "_living fire begets cold, impotent ash_." She was uncomfortable I think, seeing as how we had to have it written upon the board for important quotes and themes from the book. She wouldn't look at Katniss. No one did. I still did though, and I know why no one else did. We had a visual of the after, of the cold, impotent ash. It was a fourteen year old girl and she sat among us.

I still loved her though. I hated how much I wanted to try and talk to her and how much I knew she didn't want to talk to me. I missed my chance, I figured, seeing how high up she was building her walls. But I didn't let go of my love. I swore to myself I wouldn't.

And I didn't. Which brings me to this moment, sitting next to her at a party after having my first kiss stolen from me.

"Why aren't you with your friends?" She asks me suddenly, and I look over at her, surprised. I didn't consider the idea that she'd try to keep a conversation between the two of us. One question is hardly a conversation, but still...

"I could ask you the same question." A scowl returns to her face and I shake my head. I'm pressing my luck. "They're all outside. I didn't want to go near the bonfire..."

Fuck. Her eyes automatically go to where they had been trying to avoid all evening. Outside, to the bonfire. I knew that the party wouldn't end up as well as my dream but this was getting out of hand. So I do the first thing I can think of, which is blame it on someone else and change the subject. "Plus, Delly isn't all the great drunk." _I'm such a shit friend, I'm such a shit friend._ I'm going to buy Delly some chocolates or something for everything I've thought or said about her in her drunk state tonight. I'll give her baked goods for the rest of her life. "Don't want to deal with that." _Actually I was leaving but I saw you sitting alone and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to converse with the girl I've been a lovefool for for over a decade._ "You?"

"What?" She looks back over at me. At least the anger is gone, but she is still tense. The space between us is obvious to me in that moment, and yet it still seems to unnerve her. All I want to do is close it. I take a deep breath and try to get myself to focus again. I have always been told in school how great of a public speaker I am, and how I should try out for the debate team. I try to channel some of that into me now, into coward, in-over-his-head-for-a-girl Peeta.

"Why aren't you with your friends?"

She looks back ahead of her and shrugs, taking a light sip from her drink. "Madge got dragged off by your friends, Gale is drinking his weight and a half, and I haven't seen Johanna since she stole you."

"Yeah, I just got away from her," I add, trying to keep some conversation. I don't want to talk about Johanna though. Why did I bring that up? I curse every teacher who ever praised my skills of talking. This was disastrous.

Her one eyebrow raises and looks like she is about to ask what I did with all my time with her friend. Acquaintance. Whatever Johanna is. Speak of the devil though, and soon enough Johanna appears in front of us.

"Long time no see, Bread Lips." She _winks _at me. Just let me die, right here, and everyone forget that I existed. Bread _Lips._ She called me Bread Lips! In front of Katniss. I don't know if she truly does want to help me, wants me to truly try at getting Katniss to like me or if she's stringing me along on that belief just so she can fuck with me.

"What happened to Bread Boy?" I mutter under my breath. Or Blondie? Or how about when she actually called me Peeta? Lips, goddammit.

"Bread Lips?" Katniss asks, looking between two of us. She notices the change of my nickname from Johanna, and it's like I can almost see her mind and how it's working, trying to figure out how that change in nickname evolved from the amount of time we spent here this evening.

"We're leaving Brainless. I have to get TDH to my house and I need to get you home." She sees my confusion and mouths, "Tall, dark and handsome," knowing I didn't understand her acronym. She rolls her eyes. Obviously all I am is just some boy that doesn't know a goddamn thing. That can't kiss.

"Are you planning on driving? You've had a good amount to drink, Jo." Katniss asks her.

"Nope," She pops her p. "Bread Boy's friend that hosted the party has a bunch of DD's waiting to bring drunkards asses home. I got us one."

I stand up. "Alright. Good seeing you guys. Glad you could make it. I'll be heading out too now."

"How are you getting home?" Madge and Gale came up to our little group together and were looking at me in waiting.

"I'll walk. I don't live far." I try to get away but even as I try I know it's useless. I know what's going to happen, who's going to stop me.

"Not so fast." Johanna has a hand on my shoulder, stopping me from leaving. "We have a ride, you don't live far. Let us drive you. You've been limping enough these past few days and besides,_ it's the least I could do._" I look at her to see her wink. I quickly just agree to get her to stop talking. I need her to stop with the new names and the overall alluding she's doing about how she kissed me.

We make our way to a some kid I've seen in the hallways before but never learnt the name of. "Let's go, Chauffeur! Lead us to our carriage." Johanna links her arm with the guy and the four of us follow slightly behind. We're brought to a minivan, that seems barely touched. I wonder if it's sole purpose is this, the drunk cart. I'm not even drunk. If I was old enough I'd probably be okay to drive, but seeing as how that wouldn't be the most legal thing for me to do, I'm not going to risk it.

I expect Johanna to sit in the front next to her new best friend, but she puts Madge up there. She takes the seats all the way in the back with Gale while me and Katniss get the two middle seats. They aren't connected seats, separated, and in my mind I try to imagine how much we are separated physically versus figuratively. I don't have any conversation to start with her, I don't ever want to speak another word (for the night) to Johanna, Madge is trying a polite conversation with the driver (I hear her telling quick directions to my house, being the closest) and Gale is well... Gale. That's all he is. I don't really know him, or anything about him. I know he's part of this group that always hang out with each other. I know there are rumors about how he gets around, although they seemed to die down. I know that he is closer to Katniss than I will ever be. So I guess a part of me hates him for that. A stupid part of me that I will never talk about.

But I hear noises coming from behind me, and sure enough a look behind me shows me the two of them, Gale and Johanna, with limbs straining to tangle with each other amongst the seatbelts and their lips locked, tongues dancing. My eyes widen and I quick turn back. All I can think is thank god Johanna didn't try and kiss me like that.

I hear a small light chuckle, and it takes me a bit to realize it's Katniss. It sounds so nice, so absolutely true and beautiful that I want her to keep laughing at whatever she's laughing at. When I turn to look at her finally, I see her looking at me. Ah. Makes sense. She's laughing at me. I assess my situation. I'm sitting with locktight muscles and my head forced to look ahead or at Katniss but not, at all, at the two in the back.

"You get used to it," Katniss mutters and turns away from me, and I thank anything and everything she turned so she wouldn't have another reason to laugh at me. I'm smiling like a fool because I know she didn't mean it but she indirectly told me I'd be in their company more. Which indirectly meant in_ her_ company more...

I try to stop those thoughts until they run away from me. "So you mean this is a regular occurrence?" When Johanna said she needed her tall, dark, and handsome home I figured it'd be some senior I didn't know (or, if we want to be accurate, a senior that has no clue who I am and I know every single stat of theirs). I didn't expect it to be one from their group. "Are they dating?"

"Don't use that word," Katniss tells me. I raise my eyebrow. Is the word "date" taboo to these people, or something? "That's not what they call it. I believe what they, uhm, say it is–"

Johanna stops attacking Gale for a moment so she could answer for me. "We're exclusively fucking, Bread Boy. Now just because you're subjecting yourself to not getting any doesn't mean I do the same. Talk about something else." She goes back to her task, and I look back ahead, trying to keep the embarrassment out of my face. I am not happy with Johanna right now. She needs to stop belittling me for some stupid ass goddamn thing like the fact that I never had sex with someone or was just kissed for the first time today. I'd probably be in the same situation even if I wasn't in love with Katniss. Maybe. Maybe I'd still want to wait for my first kiss to have some sort of feeling behind it, and even without Katniss I never would have felt it with any of the other girls. Maybe I'd still be so conscious of my mistakes and clumsiness, my limp in the bad weather, my mess ups that my mother likes to keep track of. I don't feel as if I exactly have the recipe for Casanova here.

"Here!" Madge calls out, and I see my house waiting for me with the front light on. I feel a bit embarrassed, the only person besides me that's not from the Seam is Madge. Still, they aren't gawking at the idea of living in a house that isn't in the Seam (or more-of, Katniss isn't gawking and Johanna and Gale are otherwise busy). I guess having Madge as a friend, whose house even makes me drop my jaw, will do that to you. My house isn't that big, but it's in better condition than most in the Seam.

I jump out of the car. "Thanks for the ride." I still don't know his name. I look inside the car. "I'll see you guys on Monday." My eyes are on Katniss because for some reason I can't seem to count tonight a loss until they drive off and it officially is. Her eyes flicker to mine and away, The others nod and tell me see you. Katniss mumbles her reply.

The car is leaving before I even take two steps away and I slip into the house, into my room. No stairs crack and I made it without running into anything. My footfalls are always heavy, were always heavy, but not anything to disturb any of the sleeping beauties in this house. I leave myself in only boxers and slump into my bed. My hand is over my eyes, and I let out a soft groan over the evening. Well, I at least _talked _to the damn girl. Whether or not she will ever talk to me again is an entirely different question. I made a right fool of myself, though I expect that was bound to happen. I remember Madge telling me that maybe I'd get a kiss this party. Well I guess the details of by who would've been a thing to think of. I shake my head. I shouldn't have invited them. I shouldn't have gone. I shouldn't have taken a nap that filled my mind with images of Katniss in ways I'll never actually see her so close to a party in which she'd be at.

I take a deep breath. I'll sleep it off. And tomorrow, I'll bake it off. On Monday, I have to face it all. I have to face them. I have to face Delly, too, and I don't know how that'll be. If she'll even remember how I brushed her off. If she did, if she'd even bring it up or act differently than me. She's a better person than me, easy to forgive and extremely loving. People say the same about me but I don't always feel like that. Right now I feel bitter and awful. And selfish. And just flat out like an idiot. I sigh and turn to my side. I almost hope for nightmares, because I don't know if it'd be more torture to have another dream about the ever out of my reach Katniss Everdeen.

Waking up only a couple hours later to my heartbeat stuttering and my entire body tense, I seem to have gotten at least one thing I wanted. Nightmares. Excellent.


	5. I want you

**a/n: **Sorry about the delay. Classes started last week and so my studios are slowly creeping their way into taking over my life like they always do. I'll try to get the next one out sooner. This one is a bit shorter as well, and focuses more on Peeta's family as well as some other characters. Katniss will be making more of an appearance soon, so no fear.  
Time for more awkward Peeta. Thanks to everyone that tells me how they're enjoying this characterization of Peeta. And thanks to everyone that reviews, favorites and all. This story's been talked about a couple of times on everlarkrec's tumblr so thanks for that!

**atonings** is the reason this au exists, as well as the reason I get basically any writing done u.u

* * *

_I've seen suckers loose themselves  
in the games they learn to play_  
_children love to sing  
but then their voices slowly fade away_  
_people always take a step away from what is true_  
_that's why I like you around_  
_I want you_  
_yeah you do... you make me want you_**  
I want you | third eye blind**

**.05.**

I keep myself busy over the weekend. I wake up at my normal too early time on Saturday morning and make sure to get to the bakery quickly. I open that morning, my father getting another hour to sleep in, so I get right to work to get the ovens started up quick. I start up the doughs that have to rise, as well as start to deal with the doughs that my father put aside to rise last night before closing. By the time my father gets in I'm sweaty and we're ready to sell some fresh baked goods.

"You got home alright last night?" My dad asks as we work side by side after a quick morning rush. Some parents feel the need to stay awake and wait for their kids to come home from some high school party. Apparently my parents used to be one of them as well. But I'm the youngest of three, and sometimes there's just times when things slide. Not being seen as a problem child, all of those over-bearing moments just slide. I'll get home from the party or sleep over. I'll figure it out. It's nice to have the freedom, hearing stories of what it was like for Cole.

"Yeah, they made sure to have sober drivers there so I got a ride."

"Was it a good party?"

My dad does this a lot. Tries to get me to talk about my social life and friends and what I do. Which is fine, really, because he really does care and that's something that is great to be reminded of every now and then because sometimes I can forget that. My brothers are older and don't want to deal with me. My mother sees me as something that needs to be fixed but can't. Sometimes it feels like he's just trying too hard, trying to overcompensate for lack of anyone else asking me a damn thing, but at the end of the day I know my dad cares about me, about what I do and if I'm happy. So it means a lot.

_I got kissed by a senior. I kind of talked to the girl I'm in love with. _It's weird because I usually don't have a thing to say. I usually say nothing really happened and that's the truth. But things happened. I had my first kiss stolen from me by some girl who sees me as what I'm sure she sees as a Virgin Loser. My dad knows about my crush, had to of from one time when Katniss came in here and I stuttered like a mad man until he took over and I went to the back in shame (when she left he chuckled under his breath and shook his head. We talked lightly about my feelings for her, and he gave me advice about teenage boys' hearts – mine).

I don't know though. I can't tell him these things. There's something just so _high school _about it all that the thought of telling him doesn't sit well with me. That, and a part of me really just doesn't want to confide in him. I want to talk to Madge about this all (and ask her about her life, dammit, for once). The idea that I am sixteen years old and my father is the guy I talked to about girls and kisses and the everyday struggle of high school, it makes me feel foolish. Makes me feel the absolute truth behind Johanna's thoughts that I am some Virgin Loser. So I can't tell him. I can't give details. And I feel a bit guilty, but I just _can't._

"It was alright. Nothing too exciting."

He laughs. "You can have excitement in your life, Peeta."

He worries about me. He knows that I have a group of friends at school and they're the popular kids, that I go to parties and that I do good in class. But I don't do sports anymore since my injury, and so I have more time on my hands than I used to. I used to get a lot of social time with sports, practices and games and after games. You become a Team with a capitol "T" from all the time you spend together. It's been two years and I don't go to any sports parties or sports hangouts. Adrenaline runs high when they're all together and a lot of times they just break out into some kind of Olympic Competitions. The idea of me limping pathetically after them makes me embarrassed without it even actually happening. With my spare time now I work more in the bakery or draw and read. Bad weathered days point me to the two latter. So I don't see my friends as much as I used to. I am fine with that, Delly being the only person I felt an actual connection to in our friends, really, and I've known her since diapers. I mean, all of them were my friends, sure, and I do appreciate them, but it felt skin deep. Like as if I knew that the moment high school was gone, our constant need to be around each other done with, I would lose contact with them entirely.

I'm not going to say that to dad though. I've accepted these ideas and although sometimes it bugs me overall I'm fine with it all. But I know my dad, and I know that he would go into super-concerned-parent-mode, the exact type of parenting that I've been able to avoid over the years. If he believes that I have these beautiful high school friendships that I will hold dear to myself for the rest of my life, that we'll make sure to stay in contact and some of us to stay living near each other, I'll let him. To be honest, my future is probably right here, right in the bakery, so it _would_ be easy to reach out to them. I shake my head, trying to erase my thoughts. I've been quiet for too long.

"I know dad," I start off uneasily and grab a new dough. "I know. Who knows? Change is in the air." The easiest way to get my father to get off of a topic is to feed some out of a self-help book line. The seasons are changing, so there_ is _a change in the air really. Besides, I have all intention to actually talk to Katniss Everdeen. As lame as it sounds to say, change _is_ coming.

My saturday goes like that. Working at the bakery with my dad until close, Jakob coming to help for a couple hours near the end. Dinner is a quiet scratching of forks on plates as well as my dad's failed attempt at talk during our only family time. I know that a lot of kids my age don't have family dinners anymore, or if they do it's just on Sunday nights. Dad refuses to have that happen to us, thinks that the dinner table is an extremely important place to share and bond as a Family Unit. If my family shared and bonded, I'd agree. More often than not though, our dinners aren't cozy. Jakob sometimes (usually) isn't around, whether the excuse is friends or clubs or who knows what. Mother refuses to look at both my father and I. Dad tries to keep flowing conversation, and I try to help him with it but it usually falls flat after a couple of minutes. I try not to set off mother, which is easier said then done. I clean the dishes when we're all done, and we all retreat to our areas of the house that we always retire to.

I work on homework after dinner, and then the same routine starts the next day. Mother comes into the bakery to do inventory, and of course it's a moment that my leg decides to lock up, sending me to the ground with a tray of muffins. As I try and continue my work in the back, ignoring the pain from my fall and refusing to let her see me limp, she finds the time to stop inventory and yells at me and my clumsiness. She eventually tires out and I keep working. My father is in the front, and I know he can hear it (along with any other customer in the store, but all of our customers know, they _know_). He stays out in the front. When we close up he tries to ask me about things, his voice soft as if he can cushion all the words that my mother said to me but I don't respond. I'm acting shitty to the one person in my family that tries, but I don't care at the moment. Because he doesn't try enough. He doesn't stop mother when she gets like this with me, and it's almost worse to hear his low strong voice after a verbal lashing from my mother. I skip dinner, not hungry, and limp my way upstairs. I have some sketches to do for my next painting for art class, so I start out on those.

I don't know how long I've been drawing when the phone rings. I hesitate for a second, and then immerse myself back in art world. Dad will probably pick it up. The ringing stops and I let myself fall completely back into the drawing. It's so easy to lose yourself when you draw, and I do it often. The first couple of minutes are completely concentrated, trying to block out the composition and readjust everything. Once that's done and it's time to actually draw in the details and the lighting, that's when I lose myself in it all. And I love it. My mind focuses entirely on what I'm drawing, what I'm _creating_, and the outside world exists a little less.

But it still exists, and there's a knock on my door. "Peeta?" My dad's voice is muffled by the door. I try to hold onto the little semblance of my own universe I have when drawing. My dad continues to talk. "The phone's for you."

I try to think of who it'd be. It's Sunday night. Victor and Delly are the blabbermouths of the group, so if anyone it's probably one of them. I don't want to talk though. The day was stressful and I'm still on edge since Friday. I need to apologize to Delly and I want to do that in person. I don't want to talk to whoever it is. "I can't talk right now."

I hear my dad telling the person that he's sorry that I can't come to the phone right now and start to walk away. I'm about to get back into drawing when I hear his footsteps come back to my room. I groan quietly. "They said for me to tell you it's Katniss."

All of my pencils scatter as I try to make sure I don't fall off my chair. Katniss. _Katniss?_ I try to think if there's another Katniss in our school, in our town, in the goddamn world. No, there isn't (not that I know of or care). It's Katniss Everdeen. Katniss is calling me. I try to rack my brain for what she would be calling me for. What she wants to talk to me about. Or ask me. Oh god did Johanna tell her I had a crush on her? Maybe she just has a question about something for class. I don't know, but somehow I find my way to the door and open it. My dad is looking at me knowingly and hands me the phone and walks away. I take it and close the door quick, holding the phone against my chest to muffle sounds. I take a deep breath. Dammit, this girl gives me nerves like no other. I try to clear my throat. I try to imagine myself really really tall, as if this will give me some strength to make my voice sound, I don't even know, more like a _man._

I shake my head. That's got to be one of my stupider lines of thought. Jesus christ, what does this girl do to me?

I put the phone up to my ear. "Hello?"

I stay silent and wait for a reply and I hear none. Fuck. I think maybe to say hello again, when all of the sudden laughter comes through the phone. Before I even know how to react, a familiar voice comes through. "God Mellark, why didn't we talk sooner? You're just too fun."

Johanna. Johanna fucking Mason. I was still pissed at her at the party, and I'm even more pissed at her now. "So you enjoy fucking with me, is that it?"

She clucks her tongue. "Watch your language."

I rub my forehead with my hand. "Just...Dammit Johanna, can you not mess around with me so callously?"

"I'm not going to make any promises."

"So did you call me just to say that it was Katniss and try to hear how I'd react or did you actually want to talk to me?"

She snickers again. Oh yes, she's quite hilarious. "I just was wondering how your conversation with Katniss went at the party."

"You could've asked me tomorrow at school." I pick my pencils up off the floor and twirl one in my hand as I look at my drawing. I want to just get back to drawing, and a blank mind. My hand holding the phone is tense and I try and relax it.

"Okay, so I kind of wanted to see what you'd do if you thought Katniss was calling you as well."

I groan. I really, really, _really_ hate this woman sometimes. Soon to be all the time. My voice is as tired as I feel. "Fine. Whatever. The talk was barely anything and definitely not talk-over-the-phone, or ever really, worthy."

"Alright, alright I get it. You're overly pissed at me."

"You think?" I take a deep breath. "Johanna just... Like, I'm _in love _with the girl, do you hear me? I'm. In love. With her. I know you don't believe in love but god dammit, I do. I _have_ to. So I know you kind of see this all physical. I have to kiss her, touch her," I use her words, "_fuck_ her. But that's not what this is for me. I get it okay? With the whole first kiss thing. I get it. I got it. It was a stupid thing I told myself at five years old and I held onto it still. I'm not going to go around and kiss random girls. I'm going to finally just..._talk _to the girl. Alright? And if all I get to say at the end of high school is that I talked to Katniss Everdeen, that's fine. That's better than fine, better than I've done in the last however many years." I didn't want to say the actual number aloud to her, because it just sounds all the more pathetic aloud and Johanna has a certain lack of making me feel pathetic, if I'm telling the truth.

I hear her sigh on the other line. "Yeah, alright Peeta. I can't help you with that shit, alright? I'll be your sexscapades guide, but the moment you try and bring up..."

"Feelings?"

"Gah. Yeah. The moment you try and bring those up, I'm not helping you, alright? And I'm still going to be a bitch to you. It's how I always am. It means I like you, alright? If I didn't you'd either get ignored or get Heinous Bitch."

I feel myself smirk a little, knowing this is as close to an understanding we can come to with this. "And how can I tell bitch from Heinous Bitch?"

She laughs full out on that. "You don't have to ask. You'll know, and it's too late then."

"Alright Johanna. I'm going to go. If you try calling as Katniss again, uhm, if you hear a female voice can you just hang up? Like, no saying it's Katniss, no saying it's you, no saying anything. Just hang up." I can only imagine the screams I'd endure if a girl from the Seam was calling me.

"Yeah sure." She says and hangs up. I sit for a bit with the dial tone and say a quiet goodbye that comes out like a question and hang up. I get up and go downstairs to hang up the phone again to see dad standing nearby, trying to act like he isn't waiting for me with a questioning look on his face. I shake my head. "Not Katniss, dad. Just a friend playing a joke on me."

His eyebrows wrinkle. "That's not funny," he remarks.

"You're telling me."

The ride to school on Monday morning in Jakob's car is another silent affair between me and him, our radio making all the noise for us. We walk into the school a bit separated and then separate completely to get to our lockers. As I walk through the hallways, some people wave or say hello, some offer a smile, and every now and then I notice someone whispering. I frown to myself a little. It's never fun when there's people in the hallways whispering.

Katniss looks up at me again when I walk into history. I would try to not dwell on it but still send a small smile to her, whether she saw it or not. I also try to contain a stupid grin as I sit there and try to copy down all the dates and information my teacher goes through. I'll get to know her. We'll talk, and about more than just why we're not with our usual group of friends.

I need to make sure I'm writing down details on World War Two instead of all of these fake conversations that could go on between us.

When I'm walking to lunch, I hear my name called out behind me. I know the voice, have heard it for my entire life, but I'm confused hearing it now in the hallway, calling to me.

I turn and nod at my brother. "Yeah?"

He stops and nods to his two friends flanking him. "I'll see you inside, I have to talk to my brother."

I feel like saying some retort to this, about how I'm pretty sure this is the first time he acknowledged our blood in this building, but I don't. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration and he walks over to me and takes my arm with a "come on" and we walk a bit down the hallway to where it's less crowded.

I stand in front of him and wait. "There's a rumor going around that you kissed Johanna Mason at some weekend party."

Ah, great. It's probably what the whispers were in the hallway, and now my brother heard it. My brother who despises Johanna and always has since she moved here. "So that's a rumor now?"

He shakes his head. "Did you?"

"Do you care?" I counter. He never cared about my life before or what I do. I could have had an affair with a teacher and he wouldn't have commented or cared. The only time he even acknowledged my leg really was when I found out I couldn't play sports. He said, "sucks," and patted my shoulder. How comforting.

He rolls his eyes. "Did you?" He repeats.

"Well it was more like she kissed me."

"Why?" He steps closer to me.

I take a step back. "God, Jakob why do you even care? I don't exist to you in this school and now suddenly you're going all older brother on me. It was nothing, she was drunk and wanted to prove something to me with it."

He takes a step back again and takes a deep breath. "Just...stay away from Johanna Mason, and her group. They're bad news."

That's exactly opposite of my plans. I'm pretty sure my whole "get to know Katniss better" idea is in direct violation of this order my brother is trying to invoke on me. It feels weird and foreign acting like this, as if he is my older brother in more than just the literal sense. If he wants to play this though, I have a nagging question for him.

"What did you buy from the Hob?"

"What?" He asks and looks at me. I just stare at him and he sighs. "I just got some alcohol, alright? Some things in the Hob, you can trade instead of using money and they don't ask questions. People from the Seam just want the profit and aren't looking to get someone in trouble."

I thank my brother on his wonderful insight and brotherly concern. I'm pretty sure he knows the sarcasm, and makes sure to walk far away from me when we make our way to the lunch room. We aren't related anymore again.

I see Johanna looking over at me when I come in, and I make sure to smile and nod at her. I know my brother is watching, and I just want to push him. If he seriously thinks that he can finally come down with some older brother order, he can't. Besides, I don't know of any interaction between the two of them besides the black eye she once gave him. Then again, that means there probably _was_ some interaction, something that made Johanna hit him. MAybe. But maybe not. This is Johanna Mason. I wouldn't put it past her to just punch my brother for no reason. Hell, I'd thank her. But I don't need his warnings. I already know that Johanna is bad news. I don't need any caution tape or anything.

I sit at our table and everyone's in full blown talk about the party. Apparently it was wild by the bonfire. I nod and smile and encourage them to continue talking and not ask me questions, glad that they most likely haven't heard the Johanna rumors or they'd have been hounding me about it. When the bell rings, I pull Delly aside. We talked briefly at lunch, but it was just "lunch talk." I needed to apologize, and try to start being a better friend.

"Did you get home alright from the party?" I ask her, a couple days late. I should've probably called Saturday morning.

But she smiles and me and nods. "I did, thanks Peeta." She thanks me for asking. Because she's Delly, because she's one of the nicest people ever born, because she doesn't have a selfish or harmful bone in her body I'm sure of it.

I sigh. "Alright. Well I just kind of wanted to apologize."

She's confused now. "For what?"

"For being a shitty friend." She laughs. "No, really! I just dismissed you at the party at one point instead of hanging out with you. And we haven't really hung out in a really long time. So uh, yeah. I'm sorry Delly."

She just shakes her head. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Listen, I know how I get when I'm drunk. It'd be validated to have pushed me outside and lock the door, really! Now about the hanging out thing, that's very true. We haven't. Sometime this week when you have off at the bakery, come over and we can do homework together and then catch some shitty court tv."

I smile at her. "Or put on some telenovelas and make up their life stories."

"Ay dios mio. The life of Juan and Beatriz is one of infidelity." We laugh and then part ways. I'm happy that at least one thing went well for me. I know that me and Delly are good, and I'll try to be in better friend mode from now on.

But overall by the end of the day, I'm in a bad mood. I really didn't think about the idea of Johanna kissing me becoming a rumor. I never really had to _deal _with these kinds of things, usually staying spot free of the gossip mill. Like I told my dad before though, _change is coming._ I kind of hate myself for saying that earlier, for how it seems I doomed myself with that proclamation.

But by the end of the day, I decide it's all alright. That the day is actually a great one, a beautiful one at that. Because as I walk in the hallway at one point, Katniss Everdeen is walking the other way. And when she sees me she looks away, but looks back. That hint of a smile is there. And when I walk past her, she says, "Hi Peeta." I manage to get a reply out without tripping over myself. Yes, it was a good day.


	6. time after time

**a/n:** sorry about the delay guys! real life is draining me, my art classes hellbent apparently on sucking away any and all creativity I can feel (including writing). I actually have a painting I have to work on now but I felt hellbent on finishing this chapter so I could post it. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, followed, etc. It means a lot to know that people are reading and even enjoying my writing, and is definitely helpful when I need to push myself to write more. Also definitely brightens my day, even after long crits.  
Something that I wanted to address quickly over the past few chapters though. I know most people enjoy Johanna's character in this. I personally do, and she has taken over such a huge role in this story that I wasn't intending to happen. I love that, and I have more plans for her. That being said, although she is funny, what she does isn't always right. Shaming someone for being a virgin really isn't a nice thing to do. It's belittling, and makes you feel wrong even though, you know, it takes two to tango and all that jazz. I dealt with similar kinds of things in high school and it sucked, even when the person is your friend and "it's just a joke." So we can laugh at it but please realize that it's a shitty thing to do. That being said, enjoy this next part. I couldn't not use Cyndi Lauper at some point. I'm glad to hear that there are people enjoying the music choices as well!

Thanks to **kismet4891** for the inspiration on the really important part of this.

* * *

_lying in my bed I hear the clock tick,_  
_and think of you_  
_caught up in circles confusion -_  
_is nothing new_  
**time after time | cyndi lauper**

**.06.**

I survive the week on a super dork high on the count of Katniss saying hello to me in the hallway that one day. I hold it close and when people ask me what the hell I'm smiling about I feel a giddy embarrassment like I was caught but don't say a thing. I don't tell anyone because I feel like this is my own victory and I want to keep it to myself.

Well that, and I'm a bit embarrassed at how I react to her just acknowledging my existence.

My happy mood would flicker whenever the occasional person would bring up that saucy rumor they heard through the grapevine including me and a senior. High school being high school, the whispers that Johanna and I kissed (_she_ kissed _me_) became people walking in on us in the bathroom with me bent over her in the tub sans-clothes.

The only joy I can derive from this one is how much I see my brother silently fume over it. He doesn't ask anymore questions about it to me and I know he doesn't believe them, but every now and then I see him looking over at me with this angered "what if" look upon him. I hope it'll teach him to stop meddling in my business. I don't think it will.

On Wednesday after school I hang out with Delly and try my hand at being an actual friend again. She comes over and we find ourselves in front of the television for a while watching (and yelling at the contestants on) the Price is Right. My brother walks past and shakes his head, muttering about how we need to "watch some real goddamn television and not stupid show you only catch when you're sick," but we can't hear him over our groans. Mary just lost the Showcase. It was right in her hands.

"I need to get on that show, Peeta. I do!" One of Delly's lifelong dreams is to be on the Price is Right. Which probably sounds ridiculous, I guess. But after years of shopping and living in the higher up in the "good part" of town, she basically has been in practice her whole life. She'd tear the competition apart. The first time we caught an episode on accident, I think her entire world stopped. She demanded her mother afterwards to take us to the mall, only to have us running around mainly the appliance aisles as she tried to take inventory of all the numbers around. Every time we catch the show, sitting in front of it, she's more focused than I've ever seen her I think, probably even more than during that History test at the end of Freshman year that was created just to kick our asses. Her eyes freaking shine like some military wife seeing her husband after however long apart. She mutters prices underneath her breath as the episode goes on, and I have more fingers than the amount of times that she didn't pick winning amounts compared to the others actually on the show.

The way she is so engulfed by the damn show when it's on, it almost makes me want to make a comparison of it to how I am about Katniss. But then I try to tell myself to scavenge some dignity that I have left and not go through with the analogy. Besides, Katniss said _hi_ to me the other day.

Oh god, my situation is so much worse than Delly's weird obsession with this show.

I shake my head at her though. "You just want to get on because of your big crush on Bob Barker. I can only imagine the t-shirt you'd make for it."

She laughs. "Yeah well, no one can deny the man. Everyone has a crush on him."

"Can't deny that," and we both fall into laughs. It feels good to, to be hanging out and laughing like we did in middle school and even younger. High school came and changed us, changed everyone. It was weird, as if the difference of Freshman from a numbered grade really did a lot. People's bodies were changing, their minds racing to keep up. And while most people with their high school years met them with the grueling need to be constantly with friends and be popular, I found myself falling out of it. I'm not trying to be an egotistical prick when I say it, but my group of friends are well liked and even, by some, admired. I didn't care about it when I was younger, I was just happy to have a group that I enjoyed playing soccer and football and a rough game of king of the hill with. A group of people, of classmates, of _friends_, to charge the other team with in dodgeball. Friends to talk to in class and pass notes, to kick under the desk without our teachers seeing. Friends to sneak into the bakery when my mother wasn't around to steal a cookie for them.

But things changed in high school really fast. Whether people actually grew up that quick or was just trying to pretend they did I'm not entirely sure. I know that a big part of my turning point in myself had less to do with the idea of "High School" and more with the idea of getting caught in a small accidental fire that ruined my one leg and it's ability to truly perform. I went through physical therapy for it, but I still have a possibility of surgery in a couple years if it doesn't get better. But the sudden inability to be as mobile as I used to be, I know that changed me. My group of friends though weren't just about soccer games and random wrestling games of fun either anymore, which sounds at first like that could benefit me and my not-working-so-adequetely leg. But the boys started chasing after girls and throwing parties, shaving preemptively in hopes to get a beard and striving to call themselves Men. And the girls became curvier and knew it, held their bodies like prizes for the boys trying to be men that chased after them. I wasn't interested in the game of cat and mouse, although I've been asked to join more than too many times by my friends.

I guess I'm generalizing everything too much, but that's how it felt, really. That while I walked around trying to work a damn cane and not be embarrassed by it for months, everyone was hellbent on discovering each other in every way they could. I didn't want to do that. Or rather, I _did_ want to do that, but not just have it be so empty. When we got to high school, Katniss didn't try to stick out. If anything she hid more, especially after her father died. But I noticed her even more, somehow. And the idea of chasing after other girls just because I could didn't appeal to me.

I remember early on telling a friend that told me to "hit that" when a girl named Amber winked at me as she walked away that I didn't want to just "hit that." I told him I didn't want that with her and he looked stupefied, like the idea of not pursuing a girl because I didn't have an emotional want was the craziest thing he heard. He just told me "whatever bro" and ran after her himself.

I probably don't have to make a point as to what the emotional blockade I had that I didn't want to just ignore. The simple fact is what it has been since I was five years old: It's Katniss. I'm not saying that I haven't found other girls beautiful, and that every now and then I do find myself able to picture some other kind of figure when my hand finds its way into my boxers if I need release. It's happened before, but at the end of it all Katniss is the only one that has stuck with me. The girl who barely even looks my way, that the last time we had any sort of interaction besides her catching me staring at her was when we were fourteen and her father just died. Well, until this weekend. When she came to that party and we sort of talked. When she said hi to me in the hallway and I said hi back without mucking up my words or being awkward (I hope).

Tomorrow, I'm going to try and say hi to her. Crap, I'm going to make a fool out of myself.

"Earth to Peeta?" I hear Delly call to me and I look over at her. There is another episode of her lifeblood on, but it's a commercial break right now which is probably how she realized that I was lost in my mind.

"Sorry Delly," I say, smiling sheepishly.

She smiles back. "It's fine. You never told me though. How was the party? How was Operation Get-Kat––"

I put my hand over her mouth, knowing that my brother probably has better things to do than listen into our conversation but the idea of a stray ear hearing while walking to the kitchen or something is too much. "Delly!" I whisper.

She just laughs at me.

I have a commercial break to get through some of this because I know I cannot take away her precious moments with her show. I shake my head. "I talked to her." I say simply.

She gives me the biggest smile and her eyes opened wide. She's been dealing with my pining for so long with me doing nothing about it, that the idea of even talking to her gets her this excited. I feel a little embarrassed, even though that's basically how I reacted to her saying hi to me. "It wasn't that big of a deal Delly. It was really awkward. I think she was glaring at me a good amount of the time. And then Johanna forced me to go in the same car as them, and we talked a bit more. Not much but uh, guess better than I have been doing right?"

She nods and then tackles the other issue. "So I heard–"

I cut her off again. "Johanna kissed me. Nothing else happened. She found out that I never kissed a girl and she thought I was being stupid about this whole thing with Katniss and so she kissed me. It's kind of her way of helping me?"

"How thoughtful."

I shrug. "It kind of helped though. I mean, I couldn't even approach Katniss before because I felt so loaded with ideas and wants and everything. Which I still have. But I don't know, it's different now that I'm not going around as if I'm hoarding my first kiss for her?" Delly nods, and I smile a bit, needing to tell her. "Besides, she said hi to me in the hallway yesterday."

Delly laughs again. "Look at that, she's warming up to you. Next thing you know I'll be planning your wedding."

"Delly, stop," I tell her, thankful to see that the show is coming back on. She gives me one last laugh and then her attention is back. During the next commercial break, I ask her if she has any guys that she's crushing on.

She looks at me warily. "Why?"

I shrug. "I don't know. We're bonding, having our little girl talk, but like the past however many years of our friendship it's centered more over gushing over my dealings rather than yours." That's what we always call these moments, our girl talk. It's probably a rather ludicrous idea to come out of the mouth of a sixteen year old boy, but I'm fine with it. Even more, I enjoy it. I try to keep everything I feel for Katniss hidden, that every now and then having someone to talk to about it like a stereotypical girl sleepover from some movie feels good. More than once she's offered to paint my toenails and do my hair.

"Hmmm, I don't know. There's a couple guys I'm kind of interested in, but none of them really stand out. I kissed Victor at the party over the weekend."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, and he said he wants us to go see a movie on friday. He did the whole, 'you know, _alone_' thing. I think I'll go."

"He's no Bob Barker, but he'll do." I say as I see our bonding is about to be ended by the show again.

She laughs. "It's all I can hope for."

The next day at school starts off with me running into class right as the bell rings. Jakob was a bit late in driving us to school but being a senior had him still meandering the halls. I struggled to my locker and then slammed my way into history, and the teacher just glanced at me and started attendance. I took a deep breath and sat down, trying to brush off some flour I just noticed on my shirt. Today of course I decided to wear a dark flannel for the oncoming cold. I can get most of it off, but there's still the white powder on me in a couple places. Great.

Johanna stops me in the hallway going to lunch. "Have you heard the rumors? Apparently you took me in the bathroom tub at the party."

I groan and shake my head. "I don't even know where they came up with that."

"I do. I started that rumor."

I look at her in disbelief. "What? Johanna I–– why?!" She just laughs. "Is everything you do purely for your entertainment at the expense of others?"

"Not always. But god, don't worry Peeta. I'm doing you a favor. With your celibacy half the girls are convinced you're gay or something."

"Because not having sex automatically makes you gay." I sometimes feel so fed up with how high school is and how the idea of logic apparently is lost upon all of them.

"I didn't make up these unspoken rules, Bread Boy. I just exploit them. Besides, the people you actually care about taking this seriously know it's not true. Your lady in waiting certainly does." She waggles her eyebrows at me.

I sigh. Yeah, and she also knows Johanna kissed me. I can't even imagine the reasonings Johanna would give her, and I don't want to know right now. I let out a small chuckle. "My brother's pissed, you know."

She lets out a big laugh at that one. "Oh, making up that rumor is worth that alone. What did he say?"

"He told me to stay away from you and your group of friends, that you're bad news." She laughs again. "What did you even do to him?"

"He's a stupid prick that I put in his place when we were in middle school a little after I just got here," she tells me and I raise my eyebrow.

"I think after everything you've forced out of me you can give me more insight into the situation."

"Why don't you just ask your brother?"

I let out a snort. "Yeah, because we're really that type of siblings."

She rolls her eyes. "Fine. Long story short, he saw me as a pity case when I moved here. No one really knew why I did, but there were different musings. So he tried to help me, on the first day telling me some bullshit how I could come to him with anything. Kept annoying me day after day even though I told him to leave me alone. Then he one day said that I should go to the movies with him, and even maybe kiss him. You know, he's looking out for me, like I'm some fucking damsel in distress. So I punched him. That stopped his fixation of a crush or whatever he had on me. I'm pretty sure just the idea of me can kill any boner of his now."

I want to ask her the actual reason of why she moved here, but don't push it. I know that Johanna is not one to share insight upon herself, and god forbid if the reasoning touched any of those gross things called feelings for her. I shake my head. "He's still so bent out of shape over you."

"I'm the first person to deny him and not want him. Everyone's going to hate the thing that pulled the rug out from under their ego. Oh, and if I can give you some words of advice: don't try that kind of shit with Katniss."

"Yeah I kind of figured." I tell her quickly, seeing that we were close to the doors of the lunchroom.

"Well, that's my cue to go to my corner of the world and you to go to yours. Feel free to join us at lunch sometime maybe, Lover Boy." Yeah, I'd rather die. Like I could sit with them at lunch. Not yet at least, the hopeful bastard in me tries to reason. She looks around the place for a bit and she smiles. I look quick and see my brother watching us. "Bye Peeta!" She yells out to me as she walks away. She makes a phone sign with her hand and winks at me as she mouths, "Call me."

I roll my eyes and wave her off. It's funny, how sometimes her teasing me is endearing when other times it pisses me off to no end. I realize the kind of –– dare I say it –– friendship I've developed with her is something that most people would have with an older sibling. Teasing, giving advice that's pretty shitty but sometimes actually true, and doing things looking out for you that you absolutely despise.

At the table she's sitting, the four of them are talking and in their own little world but I see Gale's eyes find me for a bit and then move away. I'm sure he probably isn't too keen on me over the fact that Johanna kissed me. They aren't dating, just as they termed, exclusively fucking, but I'm sure that he probably wasn't too happy with it.

Either that, or they're talking about me right now. Great.

My friends look at me weirdly but don't ask about Johanna as I sit down. They confronted the other day the rumors going around and I told them just that Johanna was really drunk and did so for no reason whatsoever. The guys are planning a "guy weekend," full of video games and living on soda. I agree to join them, knowing that a guy's weekend will probably be good for me. Lunch goes by fast enough and so does my art class. When I come out of art, I see Katniss. I stop a bit, but Madge goes right up to her and the two pass a quick hello to one another.

_Alright Peeta,_ I tell myself. I need to do a pep talk._ Go over, and say hi. She said hi to you yesterday, you talked at the party. You're on "say hi in the hallway" terms. _

I walk over to them. "Hey Katniss."

She turns to me and gives me a brief upturn of her mouth. "Hi Peeta." I see Madge by her side smiling at me like an idiot. _Madge please for the love of everything stop with that face._

"How are you?" I ask, my question sounding a bit on edge. I don't know what to do, what to ask about what to say. What if she's having a bad day and I reminded her? What if I stopped panicking about all of this? I take a deep breath that I hope she doesn't notice.

"It's been fine, thanks." Her answer sounds guarded and I'm about to just say goodbye forever and hide in the janitor's closet. I nod and look away, trying to see how far it is when I hear a slight laugh. "Hey Peeta?"

Was that her laughing? It had to be. It sounded so incredible, and now she's about to say something to me. I look down at myself quickly, making sure she's not laughing because of something like my zipper being undone and thankfully that's not the case. I look at her. "Yeah?"

She fights down a smile and I fall even more in love with her. "You have some flour stuck on your cheek."

I know I'm blushing as I try to get it off. Madge laughs and I wonder how I ever considered her on my side on anything ever. I take a deep breath, and don't look at her. "Did I get it?"

Another small laugh, that even in the middle of mortification I hold onto. "No." I go to try and get it off again but her voice stops me. "Here." I stop all of my movements as I look at her and see her looking at my cheek. Her hand slowly moves, and I don't even breathe as it comes closer. I try to keep my reaction inside of me and not give away anything. I don't close my eyes when her hand is finally on me, and I will myself to not lean into her touch like I want to. Her hands are cold, there are callouses but I don't think I've ever felt something so comforting. She quickly brushes it off and takes her hand away and I'm already missing it and how, despite being cooler than my cheek, it warmed me up.

"Thanks," I say, and I notice how soft my voice is. "I've gone through the whole day and no one told me or anything. Looks like I need new friends or something." I attempt a joke and my eyes flicker over to Madge, who is trying to keep in a laugh. I sat next to her all in art, why didn't she tell me?

Although right now I'm so damn thankful she didn't. I try to remember how her hand felt, and try to commit it to memory.

She gives me one more slight laugh and clears her throat. Katniss looks up at me and sees me looking at her and she suddenly blushes and looks away. "Alright, uhm. Well. See you. Bye." Her voice is clipped and she scurries off. Madge gives me a look, shakes her head, and then goes off after Katniss.

I try to shake it off and continue in the hallway like nothing happened but god dammit that wasn't nothing. I get myself to class and try to keep the shit eating grin off of my face but I know that I fail at that. I don't know what we learn in class for the rest of the day. I'm doodling on my papers and the thing that comes out are hands with long delicate fingers and eyes filled in with my graphite. I thank my luck for the fact that no teacher called on me despite my obvious lack of care for the what they were talking about. They completely ignored me ignoring them, and I took it as a sign that today is probably just the best day of my life or something.

I'm in good spirits at the bakery, and my dad picks up on it. I can feel his want to go into "I'm-your-dad-but-also-your-friend" mode, but he doesn't and I'm grateful. Jakob works today after school with us, and he ignores me regardless of my occasional off-tune whistling. The time goes by fast and I'm even pleasant enough to my mother when I see her at dinner. My affirmation of this being a really good day is confirmed when I only see her at dinner, and she doesn't try to start anything with me. It's been a while, and I'm sure soon enough I'll get a yelling from her, but not today. Definitely not.

Even my damn homework is easy to get through. I'm finished by nine, and so I take out my personal sketchbook and sit in my bed, thinking of what to draw. My mind automatically of course draws to the afternoon, like it has been doing since it happened. I hear her soft hesitant laughter in my ears. I wonder how much she'd laugh if I ended up showing up to school with a whole bag of flour dumped on me. The last time I heard a laugh from her we were young. And now, now, it sounded even more beautiful. It fit her, in how you can tell she was trying not to laugh but she couldn't help it.

I picture her hand again, and think maybe I'll draw that. I almost wish I could have seen it happen, seen her darker skinned hand upon my cheek as she wiped away my flour. My mind starts to run with the ideas and I try to imagine the feel of her calloused hands, somehow still an underlying feel of softness with them, with their hesitating touch upon my lips. I try hard to imagine them trailing down my arms, down my chest, down, down...

It's no surprise to me when I look at my lap and see my pants tenting.

"Really?" I whisper aloud, even I kind of figured it'd happen. It was basically bound to happen. I'm thankful that I changed into a pair of mesh shorts after working in the bakery so that everything has a little more room to breathe.

I thank my oldest brother for being in college and the fact that I have my own room.

I'm still for a moment, knowing that I can't get any drawing unless I deal with this. "Go down," I whisper, and suddenly feel foolish for talking to my penis like it's a damn dog or something. I just wanted to end the day with drawing and then go to sleep though. Maybe I'd have a good dream, where I'd wake up in this state and then I could deal with it. I try to talk some sense into this body part of mine. "Listen, we're going to get to know her, so maybe we can not get so set off by something as simple as brushing my cheek, alright?" I can only imagine what would happen if god forbid I was ever able to confess my feelings for her and she reciprocated something, in some way.

I feel myself throb at that thought, and I groan. "Fine," I say, giving in and putting my sketchbook down. I'm about to say something again, like how headstrong my cock is being but I feel like that's taking it too far. I need to not have conversations with my body parts, particularly ones that make the blood rush away from my brain and towards it instead.

I'm able to build up easily and I know I won't last long. My hand is wrapped around it, and my mind, in it's less-blooded state, imagines a smaller more delicate hand in its place instead. I want to not think of her in this way but I can't help it, I do, and I am. Besides, now that I know, however shortly it was, how her hand feels upon my skin, I'm bound to have to deal with thoughts and moments where the idea of it trailing other places on me. I finish and quickly clean up, automatically feeling embarrassed like I always do afterwards. It's a bit odd I guess, considering the fact that I know that most people do masturbate and a good amount of them even talk openly about it.

I'm still standing when I hear my voice called from the other side of my room, my father there. I pause, mortified. Oh god, I hope he didn't hear me. Is he looking to give me some talk? Did I moan? Did I say her name? I take a deep breath and open the door and see him standing there holding the phone to me. I'm sure my face is flushed in both excitement and embarrassment but he says nothing about it and I feel grateful.

"Phone's for you. Says it's Katniss, but it sounds like the same voice as last time so..."

There's a snicker that I can hear from the phone and I roll my eyes and thank my dad for the phone as I take it and close my door. "You know you can just tell them it's you."

"I've been thinking of calling and hanging up until your brother picks up the phone. Then I'll say it's me."

I feel even weirder now, talking to Johanna right after. I try to keep my voice normal, knowing the shit she'd give me if she knew any of what just happened. "So why are you calling me?"

"You're not being a gentlemen. I asked you earlier to call me and you stood me up. Was our tryst in the bathroom not good enough for you?"

I let out a chuckle. "I thought there was a time rule or something people implement."

"I'm worth more than that." I laugh again and she joins in. I guess, yeah, she is my friend, but I'm pretty sure this isn't a sentiment that I would say to her. It's an unexpected development, but it's nice. It started because she realized that I like Katniss, and that's how most of our conversations tend to lean towards, but there's also other talking, and mostly her poking fun at me. But it's nice. And easy. It's a friendship that I don't have to try too hard at and that's nice.

"Alright, well I was _really _calling you to give you a heads up. Katniss' birthday is in two weeks."

Is it already? "Okay..."

"The goal is for you to work on Operation Let-Katniss-Know-You-Exist." I stop myself from laughing as I think back to her wiping flour off of my cheek. I quick go through the recipe for what we made today, some cheese buns, and will myself to not react again to those thoughts while I'm on the phone with Johanna.

"She knows who I am." I defend myself. She does. We've been in the same school district for a long time and she said hi to me. We talked at the party. She knows me. It feels good to be able to say that, to know for certain that she knows my name.

"Alright Casanova Bread Boy, then tweak it to Operation Become-Katniss'-Friend. I'm throwing a party in two weeks at my place, it's going to be for her birthday. I'm inviting you, and it'd be a lot less awkward if you two, you know, talked a good amount between then and now and made the invitation you got more understandable. And it's not open invitation, alright? None of your little Townie friends." I roll my eyes at that comment, that the separation between the "right side" and "wrong side" will be a bias for all people. "We're not doing presents, we're just going to drink a lot and then pass out wherever we land. Hey if you talk enough with her maybe the two of you can have a nice little drunken spooning!"

I ignore her comment. "Thanks Johanna. I'll bring a cake, yeah?"

"Oh thank god it's the baker's son that decided to have it bad for her. Yes, bring a cake. Make it nice and pretty, and I'll talk it up like no other at the party. Her favorite color is green by the way, see if that can give you some inspiration."

I'm not surprised, thinking of the Seam and the woods. I long to find myself lost within their trees, like I'm sure that she has done numerous times. I curse my blond hair and fair toned skin, the visual difference between me and the Seam. I want to be able to walk through the Seam without being questioned, go into its forest and disappearing, buy something from the Hob and not stick out like a sore thumb.

"That work for you?" I hear Johanna's voice again. I forgot I'm still on the phone.

"Yeah, that's great Johanna. Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow. Please stop calling me."

She laughs. "Nah, it's too fun to do to you."

She hangs up without a goodbye like last time and I put the phone away in the kitchen. I bring myself back into my room and just settle in for the night. For the first night in a while, when I wake I cannot remember my dreams.


	7. (you drive me) crazy

**a/n:** I'm the worst. There's more to say but I'll just leave it at that. Anyway, I have a PIP fic up that I did, it's called "All The Very Best of Us String Ourselves Up For Love," and it's based on the Chinese myth of the red string of fate. I'm pretty proud of it, so if you haven't checked it out yet it's there. Also, my one shot "My Limbs Sing the Hymns of a Tyrant," which takes place with Peeta in the Capitol during Mockingjay is up for a oneshot nomination in ff . net's Blue Awards, so that's pretty exciting. Thanks to everyone that reads and reviews, it means a lot and I try to get back to all of my reviewers but I sometimes forget who I respond to and who I don't. Again, I'm sorry about this delay. I'm going to be working on the next part as soon as possible, and I can promise it won't take as long as this one did. If you have any questions or just want to talk you can either pm me here or direct yourself to my tumblr, which is under the same username as this place.

thanks to **mari** and **colleen** for continually reading my words as they progress and **kismet4891**...you know the type of inspiration I get from our talks.

* * *

_baby, I'm so into you_  
_you've got that something, what can I do_  
_baby, you spin me around, oh_  
_the earth is movin, but I can't feel the ground_  
_everytime you look at me_  
_my heart is jumpin, it's easy to see_  
_loving you means so much more_  
_more than anything I ever felt before_  
**(you drive me) crazy | britney spears**

**.07.**

I'm scared shitless at the prospect of befriending Katniss Everdeen. I want to, god I've always wanted to, but nervousness seems to just buzz within me over the idea of actually becoming her friend. It's what I deserve I guess, for placing her on that pedestal when I was five years old and only making it taller and taller as the years gone on. But I just take a few deep breaths as I walk in the hallways and repeat a couple things in my mind. Katniss Everdeen is just a normal teenage girl that goes to this school. She is my classmate, and she is a human. She is _not _some untouchable being of omnipotent status, and I need to get that out of my thick skull.

She is the girl that I've been in love with for over a decade and I cannot even call her a friend. I have less than two weeks to solidify reasoning to be invited to her birthday party.

Yes, this whole "calm my nerves down" really is working.

I send her a wave with a smile in classes we have together. She seems surprised –– hell, I am too; I never thought I'd really actually get myself to do so –– and she even blushes the first time I do so. My heart stops at it but it's gone soon enough and she waves back, slowly and quietly with just her fingers, as her lips set in a form that seems as if it's a smile without truly giving it away. But I can see it, damn, I can almost feel it, and that almost smile of hers warms me as I sit down. I feel so transfixed by it, by that almost smile that is a true smile from Katniss Everdeen, and I know I need to stop thinking about her lips, her mouth, when I'm in public.

In the middle of the week during math we have a conversation. Sort of. I ask her for help on a question and pretend I don't understand what we're learning about. Trigonometry is hard but I get it for the most part, but she doesn't need to know. She sits diagonal from me and she tries to help and I realize that she needs more help than I do. So we end up working on our worksheet together, and after I stop trying to think of excuses to talk to her, we actually help each other in a balancing way, me understanding some parts and her understanding others. I never thought I'd look forward to doing a math worksheet but I've been proven wrong.

I suddenly love math. I never was a big fan of it really, my best subjects besides art being english and history. Math was just something that I had to work with in some ways as a constant with the bakery: adding, subtracting, conversions, those kinds of things. But for the rest of the week in the class when we have to work on our math worksheets, Katniss turns to me. I try to hold back a stupid smile but I know that I don't. I can't help it, I'm overwhelmed. The idea of her turning to me, talking to me, the two of us working together...

Yeah, like I said. I love my math class now.

But the real working piece in what Johanna deemed Operation Become–Katniss'–Friend came the next week. The weekend was a "guys only" hang out, with me taking time off with them to go work in the bakery in the mornings. It was fun and good to do, definitely, and it had been a while since I really spent any time with the guys in the group of friends I hang out with in school exclusively. Still, my mind –– as always –– felt hung up on Katniss. They talked girls, and more of what they do with girls, but I just kept quiet. I always do, and they don't ask me more. I'm thankful for that. But like I said, the true piece in my predicament with Katniss came the next week.

I hate when my brother forgets me, but on Tuesday I feel like saying I loved him for it. Jakob's car is gone in the parking lot and I was ready to start my long walk. My leg doesn't hurt, the skies are clear, and it'll be a bit of a trek but I have a couple hours until I have to go and do work at the bakery, my duties for that day being to close up the shop and prep for the next morning. But as I stand near the entrance of the school, about to walk through the parking lot and make my way through town I see something that stops me. Or rather, someone. I notice the two braids first, and the bright blonde hair that I imagine to be probably even brighter than mine. Primrose Everdeen, near the high school and alone.

I'm confused at it. I don't understand why she'd be alone here, but working through the idea I can only place it to the idea that Katniss didn't come to her school after classes and Primrose didn't want to walk without her. I start to make my way over to her, as I do thinking about the fact that she probably doesn't even know who I am. Great, whatever. Well it's not even like I could say that I'm one of Katniss' friends, seeing as how she only associates at school with three people and I'm not one of them. Does she have other friends outside of the school? I'm not sure, I just know that I'm not considered a friend of hers.

When Primrose notices me, I'm only around ten feet away. She looks a bit confused but then she has a smile as I come closer. "Hi, Peeta Mellark."

I feel myself give a smile to match hers and I chuckle. Well, she knows who I am. I can't really say that I'm terribly surprised in the end. This town is small, and even if we're from those damn opposing sides that people insist on, everyone knows everyone. "Hi, Primrose Everdeen," I return. "What are you doing here?"

Her smile drops a bit and she furrows her eyebrows. I almost start laughing because the expression is completely Katniss, and anyone who says that the two sisters don't look alike just never pays attention. "I'm looking for Katniss. She wasn't at my school when it let out, so I came her looking for her but I don't know where to look..." She trails off.

I frown a bit in concentration. It's very surprising that Katniss would leave her sister and not pick her up after classes let out. I know for a fact she would never leave without Primrose, a thing the entire town also knew. Katniss Everdeen may be a sort of mystery to most, but her devotion and love to her little sister is not. I try to think. I didn't hear her name get called out on the loudspeaker to go to the office, so that's ruled out. Maybe she needed to talk to a teacher after school, or a classmate? Or she joined a club? But no, she would tell Primrose about that, I'm sure.

"I'll look with you, if you want," I offer to her and she smiles and nods. The idea of helping her because she's Katniss' sister is not on my mind, and It's not an ulterior motive. More of, I know how some of these high schoolers can be. The moment they come across someone shorter than them they'll shove past them with a grunt and not even make sure they're okay. It's happened to me, once even shortly after the accident and I had my cane. I ended up on the ground, and I just am thankful still that I wasn't at the stairs but rather just about to climb them. It hurt and ached for a bit and I got bruises, but I've dealt with bruises before. But the idea of how much more pain would be added if I fell down some stairs as well? Like I said, happy that I wasn't on the stairs at the moment.

The idea of Primrose getting clotheslined by someone running late to their car makes me wish that Katniss wasn't doing whatever she was and just went and got her sister like she usually did. But she just smiles at me when I tell her that I'll help and nods.

"Can you think of her telling you she had anything after school today, Primrose?" I ask her as we make our way down the hallways. I don't have a real destination in mind and we just make our way and look into the different rooms as we pass them.

"No... And call me Prim, please," She says and I see her beam at me and I can't help but smile back and agree. The lights in the high school are awful and she looks borderline sickly in it, how I imagine probably I look as well. You can't tell from her appearance that she lives in the Seam, all the fair coloring of her is the kind that comes from "my side" of town. But she's Seam, just like Katniss, just like Johanna when she moved here, just like Gale and Thom and Leevy. People I don't really talk to, all based upon the fact that I shouldn't _want _to talk to them.

Still, Prim seems to transcend the stereotypes in town. She's welcomed amongst merchant shops as if she is one of the people from a house on _this_ side of the train tracks, treated like a true Townie and they all give her smiles. The people from the Seam treat her with smiles as well, and the fact that her coloring is fairer than most everyone else's isn't a thing harped upon, unlike other people that I have heard get trashed by their own neighbors for such a thing every now and then. It's not surprising though, because I couldn't see a person being able to hate Prim.

"Did you have a good day at school?" I ask her, because the silence between us two starts to feel borderline heavy.

She heaves a breath but smiles. "Yeah. A long day but it was good. We got a new set of vocab words in my English class and I have to learn them all." I nod, and she asks me, "How was your day?"

_Well, besides the fact that in math class I am actually talking to your sister, who I'm completely in love with for almost as long as you are old, nothing. _Instead of confessing that though I just shrug and tell her, "Pretty alright. Boring. High school is pretty boring so don't try and speed up growing up alright?"

She nudges me and laughs. "I can't control that, Peeta! Besides, I wish I was older."

I shake my head. "No, Prim. We don't even get recess anymore it's horrible."

"We don't have recess either! I haven't had it since grade school."

I think back. Has it really been that long since I've been running around on that blacktop, swinging on those squeaking swings? Damn. "Well then I guess I'm too late to warn you."

She lets out a giggle and I'm thankful for her enthusiastic response to me. I know that attempts at jokes with the other Everdeen wouldn't go so well –– I mistakingly tried once when we worked on one of our math worksheets. Let's just say that the silence that followed my joke that, looking back, was so horrible I don't feel like I can even repeat it (let's just say that the punchline had a farmer using_ swines _and _coswines_) destroyed me. Her gaze on me stayed unbroken, probably was the longest she ever took to look at me with me looking back and I can even now feel how my cheeks heated up. Dumb, dumb dumb dumb, but thankfully she eventually just cracked a side smirk, most likely laughing in her mind at me and my pathetic self, and we continued on with_ sines_ and _cosines_.

I'm sure that Prim would at least give me a pity laugh though.

Not that I'm going to attempt the joke upon her. I don't need the Everdeen sisters swapping stories about the lame jokes that Peeta Mellark tells.

"Are you friends with my sister?" She asks as we walk down another hallway.

I pause a bit, trying to explain it without just saying flat out_ I wish_. "No...not exactly, really. But we work together in math sometimes, and on speaking terms." She nods and I stop myself from cataloguing the times that she's spoken to me and I to her not in math class. _We were at the same party together, and we sat on a couch together._ God, I want to slap myself. My inner dialogue is a hopeless fool,_ I'm _a hopeless fool. "I think maybe we're on our way to friends though," I tell Prim and she looks up at me, her eyes a bit wider and a smiling building. "Johanna invited me to her birthday party this weekend so..." I rub the back of my neck, not knowing why I'm telling this to her and feeling judged by this preteen. I know she isn't judging me, at least I hope she isn't, but it's an awkward situation I just willingly dug myself in.

"I'm glad," she tells me and nods to herself. "Katniss needs more friends, and she likes you."

I stop myself from gasping at the air. "What?"

Prim's smile suddenly turns into a knowing one as she looks at me and I curse myself because god, I know it, somehow this kid within ten minutes has realized my crush on her sister. "Well, she never said it aloud really. But I never heard her have something bad to say about you, and I've heard a rant about many of the Townies, as she calls them. Not you though, the baker's boy was never brought up. So that's something right?" And then she winks at me and laughs a bit. This time I do let out a groan. I'm happy to hear I've never been on the wrong side of a Katniss Everdeen rant, but then again that's probably just for the fact that she somehow made it through without knowing who I was despite the small town we live in. But that wink and her laughing, I know, I know that Primrose Everdeen knows about my crush on her sister, knows some extent of it all, and that I'm very close to being completely humiliated.

But she takes one of my hands in hers and squeezes. "Don't worry Peeta, your secret is safe with me."

I attempt a smile and she laughs again as she lets go. We continue on, in mostly silence but Prim goes through her vocabulary list and I help her with definitions and coming up with ways to remember.

A locker slams and then I hear her voice. "Prim?" Some steps, and then again her voice, even more curious. "Peeta?"

I look up and see that I unconsciously brought Prim to the hallway of her sister's locker. I'm sure that Prim wants to give me another one of those knowing smiles, but instead she makes her way over to Katniss and gives her a hug. I put my hands in my pockets and slowly make my way over to the two sisters. Katniss' eyes flicker to me and a confused frown comes to her face and I look down and scuffle a bit at the floor with my shoe.

"Where were you Katniss?" Prim asks, and Katniss' attention is directed again to her little sister, her hands on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry Prim, I had to speak to a teacher about a paper and the only time I could was after class. You look tired have you been sleeping alright?" She inspects her sister's face and runs her fingers under the bags under her little sister's eyes.

Prim huffs. "I'm _fine, _Katniss."

"Alright I just..." She trails off and then looks at me. "What are_ you_ doing here?" Her voice is accusatory and I think maybe Prim lied to me when she said that she never heard Katniss say a bad thing about me because that girl's tone can pack a punch.

Prim answers for me though, and I thank her in my mind for at least having one of the Everdeens on my side. "He helped me. He saw that I was alone near the entrance of the school and told me he'd help look for you with me."

Her look at me softened but she still was cautious. I took a step back. "Alright... Well, I'm glad you found your sister Prim. I'll see the two of you around..." I consider calling Johanna tonight and telling her I'm going to be sick on Saturday, because the idea of being at Katniss' birthday party now is just too much. She's tense and I turn away because I can't stand it.

"Peeta?" Her voice again, and it's not the same hardness that her stare had at me. It's hesitant, and I feel hesitant as I turn around and look at her. I look at Prim first and she's smiling at me like I knew she would. When I look up at Katniss, I see a smile on her too.

I try to gulp my heartbeat back into my chest and remember how to breathe. She's stunning, and I'm losing count of the amount of times I fall in love with her over and over. I incline my head towards her in response, knowing that if I tried to talk at this moment my voice would crack or something else equivalent on the embarrassment scale.

A warmth floods her smile and I can feel my cheeks and entire body just heat up from it. I've never been in the direct line of fire of this warmth from Katniss Everdeen, even though it's not even that much. But it's more than I've ever seen directed to anyone that wasn't her sister and I almost stumble backwards from the force of it. "Thank you," she tells me, and at this point I can't tell if I'm just imagining a blush staining her cheeks ever so slightly. Prim starts giggling and Katniss cuts her a glare that makes her laugh louder. I think of doing the same thing but I can't exactly get myself to function correctly

She looks back up to me and I nod and manage out a "you're welcome," and leave the two of them. The idea of saying that I'll walk them home flashes in my mind but I refuse it quick. There is nothing good that could come out of the walking them home on every level. It'd be awkward. I'd probably offend Katniss. She'd not want to walk me through the Seam. I'd have to at least double my walk home. I'd be late to work. No, no definitely not going to walk them home but for a brief moment I think about it and my mind, the stupid hopeful thing it is, tries to picture a time some point in the (near) future where I actually do such a thing.

Getting outside as fast as I can, and the outside is literally a breath of fresh air that I need desperately. I take a big gulp and don't put on my jacket right away. I need the cold air to calm me down, as well as the thought that maybe it'd be a reason for my face to be so red. I'm glad that Jakob left without me today, I definitely can use a cold brisk walk in the turning weather. Although, really, if he didn't leave without me I'd never find myself in this situation. I move my leg a bit before I walk, knowing the even though it doesn't hurt now it's going to no matter what. The cold and the distance guarantees it. I start my trek and try to keep my mind off of what happened, but I know that I fail miserably, and all my mind draws to are those moments. The icy cold glare that she held me in, as well as the warm smile when she trusted her sister's words and realized I helped her. Primrose Everdeen feels almost like a bridge between the two of us and maybe, dammit, maybe that smile can be directed at me more.

I think again, like I always do, about when she touched my cheek. Maybe she'd do that without the reasoning of flour being on me. I shake my head and adjust my backpack. Dangerous territory of thinking, I tell myself. I definitely feel cursed at times with being artistic, my imagination too wild. Growing up my mother would shake her head at me over it, at me with my head in the clouds. My imagination would make me lose myself in thoughts quickly and easily, visuals springing to mind quickly. It still gets me in trouble now, though. And so I think about the bakery, about the history paper I'm going to have to write, about anything, because I sure as hell do not want to have to go run off into the line of trees and work out a hard on that I develop on my walk home because my overactive imagination takes over again.

But thankfully I make it home without any "incidents." My leg, as I knew, has a slight ache to it, but nothing too bad to deal with. My mother is in the kitchen when I walk through, and I try to sneak up the stairs before she can see me but I'm not quiet enough. I'm told that my footsteps are more like an elephant's and I'd have to agree. I never was one that was good at sneaking around, it's only gotten worse from the accident, and it's always worked out worse for me.

"Where have you been?" Her voice is sharp and cuts through to me and I sigh.

I put my bag down with my jacket and make my way over to her. She sits at the kitchen table, her reading glasses on and dirty blonde hair pulled back tight in a bun that shows her sharp face as well as her frown and hard look as she doesn't even look up from the mess of papers in front of her. I'm not surprised; she gives enough attention to be mad but not enough to actually look at me. It's what I expect usually, and I'm fine with it. I'd rather her like this instead of how she used to be. How she still sometimes gets. The small town gossip knows it, knows the whispers of it, and so it's no secret that growing up the little Mellark boys would sometimes have bruises on them that wasn't always from a clumsy fall. Usually just a hit, sometimes she'd use an instrument in the kitchen, but it was never too bad. I guess though, any is bad from a mother. I shouldn't have to at seven years old tell people that I fell out of a tree when really all I did was steal a batch of cookies that I wanted to bring for the class that day. I try not to make excuses for her but I do. I have to. Because she's my mother and if I don't I fear that I'd do something stupid like cry about the lack of love that she gives me. So I make excuses and I pray for her to ignore me or not be able to look at me.

It got better when I got bigger; it got better for all of us but I seemed to be more of a target than my other two brothers. Cole being the first born was doted upon as much as that woman can dote, and Jakob pleased her the most she could be pleased. I'm like the leftover child and mistake –– as she tells me from time to time –– and so I do my damnedest to help but at times I'm just doomed to fail. I thank my genes for being born with a knack of working in bakery and enjoying it, for my precise craftsmanship that I developed over the years because my ability to do things like decorate the cakes and therefore less of just a body that sucks out her money. Although she now jabs at me about because _what kind of "man" makes buttercream flowers?_ After the accident, I don't really exist to her usually. She doesn't praise my work but I know it's at least satisfactory in her eyes because she doesn't say anything to me about it when she sees it. If I do something wrong she'll yell. Every now and then she'll slap me, but it's nothing too extreme anymore. She tries to cut deeper instead with words, and I'd be lying if I said those didn't hurt. The first time she told me about how the whole town now refers to me as a cripple I made it up to my room just in time to not let her see my tears. I don't know if it's true –– it has to be, at least to some extent –– but it was just too much to deal with, the words and the tone of disgust as she looked down at me, my mother coming to refer to me as that like I was on the Island of Misfit Toys in Rudolph.

I got lost in my head like she berates me for I realize, and I haven't answered her. I can feel her impatience roll off of her as I clear my throat. "I walked home."

She glances at the clock. I wonder if she's trying to calculate how long it takes a cripple to walk home. I know she is, actually. It's four o'clock now, and I have to be at the bakery latest at six. "Why didn't you get a ride?" She asks.

I almost roll my eyes at the question. Not "why didn't your brother drive you like he does," but the blame is my fault, why couldn't I find someone else to replace him driving me?' "I didn't realize I'd have to try and find a ride and by the time I did most everyone was gone." _Also, I had to help a little girl find her older sister. Also, they're from the Seam. Also, I'm in love with the older sister and have been almost my entire life. _

She's already back to fully concentrated on the papers in front of her though, and I almost sigh in relief. "Well you better get to the bakery on time."

And I do. Not only that, but earlier. I don't want to deal with being in the house, so close to my mother and right in her line of fire if she wanted to, so I go in early. Jakob is in, and he throws an apology right away. "I had to drive a girl to her place," he tells me and winks. I roll my eyes and tell him it's okay. Because it is. I may have made a fool out of myself in front of the Everdeen sisters, but I talked to them, and am doing my best efforts to really learn about the girl that I'm a lovefool for.

My brother's oblivious to the fact that I'm not paying attention to him or even really care what he was doing because he continues to talk. "You know how it is Peet. I had to drive that lady friend somewhere and I couldn't have my little brother in the backseat, you know?"

"I get it." My voice is flat but _he_ doesn't get the tone. I don't want to hear about this, but I don't have a choice, as always with his girl tangents.

"And it was totally worth it, so thanks. I'll make sure to clean the seats before driving you tomorrow," he tells me and sends me another wink and I just scoff and walk away. If I don't he's going to give me details about his backseat rendezvous with his "lady friend's" body and I'd rather not have to endure that today. I tell him he can go and he thanks me. I deserve it, with the fact that he didn't drive me home and I'm taking the end of his shift, and I tell him that I know. The place is dead so I just have to finish up a couple loaves he was mindlessly working on while helping a couple of people that stroll in and then start to clean up as well as start to form the dough so that it can rise for tomorrow morning baking.

I'm tired from work and the walk when I get back to the house, but manage to open my work books after dinner to get my homework done. There's not too much, but I definitely make sure to first complete my math worksheet like I always try to because we've been going over them in class and I'm sure you'll never guess who I'm going to want to look over my work with.

The phone rings and I ignore it. But like it has happened over the past week, I hear my dad's footsteps lead up to my room along with a knock. My group of friends I usually hang out with, it's not like they don't call me, but rather it's more of they plan everything within school with a large group for the most part, so phonecalls aren't too common unless someone wants to "just chat," which I tend to avoid. My dad sighs and he tells me, "It's your friend _Katniss,_" and his disbelief is evident in his tone.

I sigh as well. Will Johanna just stop playing this game? I open the door with a "thanks dad" as I take the phone from him and I am surprised there isn't already snickering coming from the other end. "Really Johanna? We're still insisting on this?" I ask as I sit back down at my desk and look absently over my worksheets so far.

There's a silence for a bit, and it confuses me. "...This is Peeta right?" My heart is swollen and lodged in my throat and I almost just hang up the phone. "Peeta, it's Katniss? I thought your dad said that..."

She heard my dad tell me it's Katniss, and then I go and call her Johanna._ Haha, yeah sorry about that. It's just that Johanna likes to make fun of me being in love with you and calls my house giving your name to hear how excited I am. _Of course Katniss Everdeen would actually fucking call, and of course I'd be a bumbling idiot. "H-hey Katniss," I manage to get out finally and I just want to crawl into a hole and never see the sunlight again.

She sounds confused and _gee Mellark, I wonder why_. "Hey Peeta." There's another pause and my eyes are closed as I lightly bang my forehead a couple of times on my desk. Should I try to do this harder? Should I pray to be knocked unconscious? "Why did you think I was Johanna?"

I can't tell her that I thought that's who I thought my dad said called, because there's no close similarities to their names. So I come up with a different lie. "Johanna likes to mess with me, tell me other names besides hers for people calling. If I don't catch on right away I lose."

She lets out a laugh, just one, but I almost can breathe again. "And what do you lose?"

I shake my head. "I don't know. Johanna's game. There's no real winning or losing, but I'm afraid of the kind of things she'd try to hold over me if I lost. I'm sure you can understand."

It's quiet for a moment as I hope and pray that the idea I went out on a limb with is believable. But she laughs again, and I breathe a bit more again. "Yeah I can understand that. Anyway, Katniss here, not just some trick Johanna." I smack my head on my desk once more for good measure because I'm just a complete idiot when it comes to this girl.

I want to ask her why she's calling me but I don't want to say it wrong. Another version of me that doesn't exist could be suave in this and could attempt a seduction. That part of me doesn't exist though, and the idea of it almost makes me want to laugh. I can only hope and pray I don't mix up my words too much. I'm sure if I tried in any way to attempt to seduce Katniss Everdeen, I'd be spluttering and she wouldn't understand what my motives truly were. It'd probably be hysterical, but completely at my expense and I'm not ready to live with that kind of humiliation.

We've both been silent for a while now, and the entire phone conversation –– lack thereof –– is awkward. "Are you there?" She asks.

I cough in hopes to clear my throat and will my voice not to crack. "Ye–– Yeah I'm here. Hi Katniss." Another hit of my forehead to the desk. Hi Katniss, really?

"Hi Peeta." I hear her take a breath. "Listen do you by chance have the math homework? I was rushing after school, I'm sure you can understand I mean I was already late with my little sister and everything and I didn't want to make us more late in getting home so yeah I was rushing. And I forgot to bring home the work and now I need to get it done and I'm not sure if I have the right worksheets and I know you're probably busy or tired or something but you definitely have something better to do than just talk about math so I get it if you can't help me but I was just wondering––"

She's rambling and it might be the most endearing thing I've dealt with with her. She's _nervous_, and it's a conversation completely between me and her. And she initiated it. Sure it's homework but she's worked up over it, and I wonder briefly if it's over the fact that she has to ask someone for help –– something I know for a fact that she doesn't do well with –– or with the fact that it's me she's talking to on the phone. I interrupt her. "Katniss."

She takes a breath that she definitely was needing. "Yeah?"

"It's fine. I'm doing the worksheet now. I'd be more than happy to let you know what problems it is." Maybe it's my imagination but it's almost like somehow through the telephone I can feel her smile at me. I don't know if she truly did smile but maybe that's the beauty of telephones. I always feel incredibly awkward not being face to face with someone, but let's face it, there's no situation that I'll feel not awkward when dealing with Katniss Everdeen. But on the phone I can insert in smiles and blushes, and I can fill myself up with maybe some false hope but it's definitely better than how I was just minutes ago, getting ready to work out my own K.O. with my desk.

But our phone conversation ends up being on the longer side. After I give the problem sets that are on the sheet we have to work on, we do a couple of them on the phone together. She has a quick question about one, but it turns into doing a couple of them. It's this weird sort of doing homework together almost as if we're side by side study partners, and I love it. Afterwards I'm ready to count myself ahead and just tell her goodbye but she brings up another thing. "Why did you help my sister, Peeta?" Her voice is quiet when she asks.

All the comfortability that I grew into falls a bit, but I manage to not feel like a fish out of water completely like I usually do. "Well, simply because I didn't want her to be alone. I didn't want her to get bullied. And my brother left without me so it wasn't like I held anyone else up."

She's quiet again, the two of us are, but I know that I'd be content with just staying on the line with her in silences. "Well," she starts, her voice low. "Thank you."

I chuckle quietly. "You already thanked me. There's no need, anyway."

"Still." There's another pause again, and I fight myself from just saying goodbye and hanging up. "So..." She draws out the word. She wants to talk about something _else_ with me, and is trying to figure out a way to do it. She sounds uncertain, but then something must snap in her because she all at once becomes determined and steadfast in her words. "So listen. It's my birthday this weekend. Johanna's throwing me a party and she told me I can invite whoever I want. I wanted to uhm... .well... you can come? If you want," She starts to lose the confidence that she began talking with but I don't have it in me to cut her off. _She's inviting me_. "You can come uhm... Johanna says it's invite only but you can bring someone else if you want, some other friend. It's Saturday, and everyone's sleeping over Johanna's, there's no choice in that. Johanna's house rules are you get wasted and you do not try to leave until you are completely sobered. So? If you want...and if you're not busy! I'm sure you're busy."

"I'm not busy," I let her know quickly. And even if I was you bet your damn ass I would cancel.

"You're not?" She squeaks, and I hear her try and get control of her voice again.

"No, I'm not... And I'd love to come, Katniss. Really, thank you." Goodbyes are quickly muttered after that and when I hang up the phone I flop on my bed contently.

But I have another phone call to make, to someone who doesn't let me wait with their own damn news.

Johanna picks up on the third ring. "Johanna and Co."

"Shouldn't you say everyone's name? That's very small of you to just name yourself."

I can hear her rolling her eyes. "The only phonecalls that come through are for me anyway, if not telemarketers. And those people I like to mess around with a bit." I can only imagine the things that Johanna does to the unfortunate telemarketers that call her place. "You looking to make me buy something, Mellark?"

"Nope, not at all."

"Well I am surprised it's you calling me. You must have some news, or something. Go on, spill it."

"I just got off the phone with Katniss –– she called me," I tell her, and I don't even try to keep the smile off my face.

"Cut the shit, really?"

"Yeah. Mind you I thought it was you calling so I made an ass out of myself right away." She laughs in a way I knew she would and I continue. "She needed to know math homework but then she had to invite me to a certain birthday party on Saturday."

"You're fucking with me, Mellark."

I shake my head even though she can't see me. "Nope. And I wanted to call to let you know. I didn't tell her that you invited me first, and she doesn't know I'm going to bake her cake, but she invited me."

Johanna whistles low. "Well kid, I gotta hand it to you." I'm waiting for her to compliment me, or maybe just be happy with me about the fact that this happened, but of course she deals with this in the only way Johanna could. "My kiss was like a makeover for you, or something. Pretty soon you'll have all the ladies groping their panties over you."

"Christ, Johanna. Really?"

She just continues though. "It's a sleepover, you know? I guess I'll have to find some place for the two of you to crash in a love nest. Let the two of you grope and dry hump to your heart's content."

"Johanna," I start. I can't take this. I'm not even letting myself think about the fact that it's a party that I'm going to be sleeping at because if I do I know I'll freak out.

She laughs. "Listen I'm kidding. But really. Good job with that invite. Now tell me, what kind of liquor do you want? I'm planning on getting you completely intoxicated this weekend and you have no choice in the matter."

I think. I've drank before, of course, but it's always been "whatever's there." Shitty beer. Shittier vodka in mixed drinks. Choosing? I try and think to drinks I had sips of from my friends' who would make up their own specialized drinks before coming to the parties. "Rum," I tell her, but it comes out more as a question.

She catches my tone and she lets out a laugh. "Rum it is." I can hear the undertone of_ I have so much to teach you in the world of teenage sinning._

I get in a goodbye before she hangs up, and I don't expect her to give me one as well. I hang up the phone in the empty living room and make it upstairs again to finish my homework. It's been a long day, and I still have the rest of the week to deal with before the party. I try and think of what I'll do for Katniss' birthday cake. I want it to extravagant, if I could make it how I truly would want to I'd try and recreate the woods and trees of the Seam within it. But something tells me that's a little too much. I can imagine the nagging that Johanna and even Madge would give me for it, as well as Katniss' confusion of my dedication to it. No, simple is definitely the route I want to take, but I still want to make her know that I spent time on it. I rub my face in frustration. Figuring this out is stressful, even though I know just a plain sheet cake even without icing would be well received amongst drunken teenagers. All I know is it's going to be an interesting weekend.

I fall asleep eventually, dreams taking place in a house I've never been in. There's people all around, I can hear them, I know they're there. But all I can see is Katniss Everdeen, right in front of me.


	8. have you ever

**a/n: **if you think this is me trying to make up for the long gap in between the last two chapters you are completely right. two in one week? yes perfect. I kind of lied though. I expected to get pretty into the party with this chapter but only got to the beginning of it. I had other things to deal with, mostly awkward boners. my blog on tumblr is a bit of a running word vomit of my mind so if you go there don't expect strictly talk of fanfic, however awkward boners do come up a good deal. it's at hotpielookedlikehotpie - shocking. right now I'm a bit tipsy and am probably going to get right into writing the next part, or maybe just catch up on some reading I've neglected in order to write this and pass out or something. Thank you thank you thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, following, etc! It means a whole lot that you're taking the time to read this stupid high school au and we're in for quite a ride still so hold tight.

The poem mentioned is "Here I Love You" by Pablo Neruda. Neruda ruins my life every day. There's also a part semi-inspired by "There's Something About Mary," and no, it's not a hairstyle. "Have You Ever" by Brandy is this chapter's song, because let's be honest it's a 90's Peeta's unrequited love ballad to every point.

as always, **mari** and **colleen** for reading words that I throw at them at every hour of the day. **kismet4891** for being my co-president to team cockstand and knowing what's important in a fanfic.

* * *

_have you ever been in love_  
_been in love so bad_  
_you'd do anything to make them understand_  
_have you ever had someone steal your heart away_  
_you'd give anything to make them feel the same_  
_have you ever searched for words to get you in their heart_  
_but you don't know what to say_  
_and you don't know where to start**  
**_**have you ever | brandy**

**.08.**

I wish I owned a time machine. No, really. The anticipation and waiting is too much. I just want it to be Saturday, and the idea of having to still get through the school days and work hours in between now and then is dreadful.

But then the thought of it being Saturday, of _actually_ going to the birthday party of Katniss Everdeen –– a _sleepover_ that will be alcohol induced, I more want the time machine so that it can never come. I take deep breaths and try to calm myself, and try to just make it so I'm happy and excited for this. It's a freaking birthday party, and it shouldn't be such a big deal.

But it is.

I rush through my schoolwork at home as much as I can. My free time I spend in my sketchbook, pouring over ideas for Katniss' cake. I sometimes tamper off when I draw a blank and end up just with lazy sketches of trees or –– of course –– her, but I try to get back on track. I need to find the perfect balance of trying but not too hard; I want her to be happy and excited for it, but at the same time not to see it as me trying to show off. Then again, it's like Johanna said. I _am_ the Baker's son. It's going to come out better than if anyone else that's going to the party made that, and it sure as hell won't be cake mix from a box. The thought of it makes me cringe. Box mix. I get the fact that not everyone grows up baking, but the thought of it still sets me off bad.

By Thursday I have a design I'm close to satisfied with. I know that I never will be completely approving of it –– I know that there's always some design just out of my reach that I can keep striving for and never get. But I'm happy with what I came up with and figure that tomorrow night when work dies down I'll start my work on it, finishing it up during my morning shift on Saturday before the party.

When I told my dad I had a party invite, he gave a really big smile and was excited. When I said it was Katniss', he frowned a bit and asked if it really was her, or if it was just that other friend picking on me. I blushed; the fact that my father knew how Johanna messed around with me a bit embarrassing.

I don't think my mother even knows I have a party. She doesn't care, as long as work hours are dealt with, which I went over with my father. I have closing on Thursday and Friday, Saturday I open, and Sunday I have to just help with the prep work after closing for the next morning.

We continue working together in math. Our other classes together we sit further away and there's no partner work (if there was would we be partners? I'm getting ahead of myself, way too ahead of myself), but still I manage to get the faint Katniss smile and sometimes a finger movement of a wave my way. My answering smile and wave is always too enthusiastic, but I can't hold it back and I don't try to anymore; she's already noticed my enthusiasm I know, and it's how I am with most people, really. Even if it's a bad day I try to throw them a big smile and wave if someone acknowledges me because hey, they can be having a bad day too.

But my smiles to her are always slightly different. She'll never notice, I'm sure of it, but I can feel it. It's small, as if it's how the left side of my mouth goes up 5% more into the smile and leaves it a bit crooked, but not enough where it's a visible crook. I know this because I caught sight of myself after she passed me in the hallway and we exchanged quick muttered hellos once. A girl's locker was opened as I stood there and turned, and I caught my own reflection in the mirror she had. I tried to dissect if there was any difference to my face because of her, and well, of course there was. But small, so infinitely small that not only will she never notice but I can't see anyone besides me noticing it.

I'm a ball of held in energy when Friday rolls around, and during lunch I keep my hand underneath the table so that no one can see me drumming my fingers nonstop against my thigh. In a little more than twenty four hours the day my entire adolescence has been yearning for will be upon me. I'm being dramatic, I know that. But it feels like this. The day before we awkwardly came across each other in the hallway before math and walked together. She looked down at her feet as we walked and I tried to not look at her the entire time, but we were quite close and maybe it was just me (I _know_ it was just me), but it felt like there was a current of electricity in between the two spaces of our bodies. We didn't even talk; she was lost in her thoughts with a scowl on her face and I was too flustered by her and too in love. But we talked in math (about math, admittedly), and it's not _always _so awkward between us. I'm not always an idiot and she's not always not paying attention to me. She was at the last party I went to and we talked there, but it's different this time. Completely different. For one, we're actually on speaking terms. Also, it's _her_ birthday party, and even though I had an invite already, she invited me herself. Also –– and the one I'm most afraid of –– Johanna's hosting the party and insisting all of us to sleep over, which implies that we will be drinking a good amount and which also implies that she is definitely going to have fun to my detriment.

Delly brings me back to Earth with a wave of her hands in front of my face and I smile at her with a raise of my eyebrows. She knows I didn't hear her so she repeats. "I said, a couple of us are getting together to play laser tag tomorrow, you in?"

Of course they want to do laser tag on a weekend I'm busy with something that I absolutely cannot cancel. "I kind of already have plans this weekend..." I trail off, not wanting to say anymore in front of everyone. I give Delly a look that says "let it go," and she responds with one that I don't even have to see to know what she means: "You're telling me later."

When the bell rings she pulls me aside. "So?"

Because she can read it on my face. I don't always just have "plans" on the weekend if I didn't make it with them. Sometimes I do doubles in the bakery, but if it was that I'd have said it. "I have a birthday party tomorrow to go to."

She furrows her eyebrows and tries to think about whose birthday is in this time of the year and why she didn't know about it. "Whose?"

I start to blush when she asks that and I think that gives her the answer but I tell her anyway. "Katniss Everdeen's," I say, and of course, of _course_, my voice cracks a bit on her last name because there is nothing more fitting than my voice reminding me of my ever changing hormones due to puberty in the middle of saying _her_ name.

Delly's eyes widen. "What?"

I feel bad now because again, like the horrible friend I am, I haven't told Delly about it. I just told her how we sometimes talk in the hallway or in math. She tried to draw hearts with mine and Katniss' initials on my math worksheets earlier in the week and I almost had a heart attack. Thank god for erasers. And white out.

But I duck my head and tap my hand against my thigh again. "Er –– yeah." I scratch my hair, feeling uncomfortable, and know I mess it up. "Johanna's hosting it and she invited me? But then a couple days later Katniss invited me herself." I remember Johanna telling me it was exclusive and not to invite any _Townies_, and then Katniss telling me I can bring someone if I wanted to. I should be a good friend and invite Delly. She's friends with Madge, and I'm sure she has a couple of other friends within that group. Or she'd make them. Delly can make friends with a ceiling fan if she has alcohol in her. She's tried before.

I should invite her and be a good friend, but I don't. I'm being selfish I know I am, but I can't. She probably wouldn't even come, wanting to play laser tag and most likely passing out in someone's basement, raiding for supplies from whoever's parents' alcohol cabinet and the fridge. Maybe she wouldn't want to simply because she wouldn't want to go and be with the people that will be there. It's not that I ever even heard her say anything bad about kids from the Seam, but with a lot of people in Town they think it without meaning to. Some people are just born with a hatred for the other side of town that they don't understand it seems. Our parents aren't always the best kinds of role models, and a casual remark we overhear as children about how dirty that dark haired person is becomes an understanding in a way that isn't fair. People that aren't like us are dirty, they aren't _us_, they're less than us. Each person –– on both sides of the town –– have varying degrees of this sort of thought, but it's there, it exists. Sometimes we don't even control it.

I grew up my entire life hearing my mother rant about the people that live amongst the trees like _savages_, about people from the Seam. I also grew up my entire life basically in love with a girl from the Seam, as well as a mother who never really had the nicest things to say about me either. Maybe if I wasn't so quick to fall head over heals in love with Katniss Everdeen, I'd listen and believe my mother's words. Maybe I'd hate people from the Seam and think they were scum. The idea tastes ugly in my mouth though, and I don't think I would even if I wasn't in love with a girl from the Seam from a very young age. I just don't think I have it in me to hate people just based on things they can't even control. I can't even think of anyone I actually truly hate.

Delly's still in front of me and shaking her head. "I never thought I'd see the day," She tells me with a wistful tone to it.

I cock my one eyebrow. "What day?"

She tells me with a smile, "The day you finally start to be a little proactive with this obsession of yours. I thought I'd have to sit next to you all old and saggy in rocking chairs, listening to you tell me how the sun still shines out of Katniss Everdeen's ass and how you think all the age spots make her more beautiful."

I run my hands down my face groaning and then go back to scratching my hair again. I can only imagine how much I've messed it up at this point. "I'm not_ obsessed,_ Delly. You make me sound like some Dateline stalker. And please don't––"

She cuts me off. "Don't say 'the girl's' name in public. I know, I know. Anyway, I'm really happy for you, yeah? I mean, I'm a bit mad that you didn't tell me the moment it happened, didn't call me up for one of our girl talks just over the phone, but I get it. Your own personal victory." No, I didn't call Delly because I was too busy calling Johanna after I got the invite. I'm adding up all these ways in which I'm a horrible friend to this girl and she doesn't even know. I'm not inviting her though I can, and I didn't even tell her about the party when Katniss invited me. I tell myself in my mind to not go overboard with all of this, that just because Katniss and her group are giving me attention that I can't just ignore the people that I have literally grown up with. Delly has been by my side through the years and she never wavered in her friendship to me, even when I had the accident and couldn't participate in as much because of my leg. Other people in our group of friends, yeah, I already have drifted away from but not Delly. I can't just forget about her. I tell myself it over and over, and I truly hope that I can at least keep this one promise to myself. She's still talking. "We'll miss you tomorrow but have fun and I demand full accounts of the evening so don't drink too much."

I give a quiet laugh but nod. I consider telling her it's a sleepover but I know she'll start to yell things I don't want heard by public, so it'll have to wait for the recap.

The rest of the school day is a blur and when the bell rings I try to get to the car as fast as possible without actually running because god forbid my leg decides to randomly give out and I end up injured the day before the party. Words from English just before pass through me, our readings jumbling around in my head. We did a week of poetry and just had a quiz before starting the next unit on Monday. Pablo Neruda was our focus this week, and maybe if I could formulate words like he does I could catch her interest. Or at least not just mumble through it all with stutters._ I love what I do not have. You are so far. / My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights. / But night comes and starts to sing to me._

As these words go through my head and I think about her with them, Katniss passes me. I'm on my way to Jakob's car, her on her way to get her sister, and I greet her with that 5% crooked on the left side smile that is just for her. She hands me back that quiet smile of her own, one that even reaches up to her eyes, and I feel my heart stutter.

"See you tomorrow," she tells me in a quiet voice and I'm sure my smile grows.

"Tomorrow," I repeat and in my head it sounds like a promise. "Tell Prim I say hi." Over the week since me formally meeting Prim I'd get her to talk about her little sister every now and then. She loves Prim so much and it's beautiful to watch her come alive just speaking about her.

Katniss' smile is warmer at the thought of her sister and she nods and tells me she will.

The drive is quiet and Jakob drops me off directly at the bakery. My father is working and sends me a hello as I get behind the register. He told me that I'd work the front the first half, the second half I'd multitask with prepping doughs and baking, and whenever I could I could work on the cake. I told him I'd pay for it but he said no. I'm going to make sure to just take a part of my paycheck and get it back to him, I guess. If I have to after hours do some work on it –– which I'm sure I will –– he said that's fine. I just have to lock up in the end.

Just before I'm about to head into the back and switch my dad to the register, Johanna walks into the bakery.

"And here we see the Bread boy in his natural habitat, amongst the rest of his kind," She says in a horrible Australian accent.

"That's a horrible Crocodile Hunter impression, Johanna," I tell her, crossing my arms.

She shrugs. "You knew what I was going for, it was good enough." She comes up to the counter and looks around at the different displays we have. "How's the cake for tomorrow?"

"I have it all planned out. In a bit I'm going to start it, probably put in some extra time after work to get it made and then finish it up tomorrow at the end of my shift before I come over."

She nods and gives a smile. "So when do you want to bring the cake over?" She asks me and I blank.

"Uh..." What time? Do I even know when the party starts?

She seems to hear my inner confusion. "How are you getting to my house?"

"Uh..." I was just going to ask my dad to drop me off, but suddenly having my father bring me to this party is not okay. I think I'll walk.

"Do you even know where I live?"

"Uh..." In all of my excitement over the fact that this party is a thing and I'm invited to it, I never bothered with the details. And it took me until the day before to realize it, it took being questioned about it.

Johanna sighs. "I have to do everything." She shakes her head and looks up at me. "Look, I'll swing by and pick you up after I go on an alcohol run –– how's that? A good amount of people will be over already, and it's not like it'll be just me and you setting up."

I almost audibly breathe a sigh of relief. "That'd be great Johanna, thank you."

"Alright then. I'll be around by like, six. Do you want me to pick you up here or at your house?"

"Here," I tell her quickly. Jakob doesn't work Saturdays and he never is in the bakery when he doesn't work. He usually doesn't stay home on Saturdays but it's a possibility and I don't want to deal with the possibility of him and Johanna seeing each other and his twenty million questions that would come about then from it.

"Give me a cookie for the road," She tells me, and I just laugh and pick her out a couple. I was going to anyway offer her something, on account of her coming around to pick me up as well as sometimes being a good friend. She flicks a wave at me and then she's gone. I go in the back after a bit and my dad pats my back as he passes me. Most of the work in the back for the day is done so I get onto finishing it up as well as prepping for the next morning. It's my shift so I try and do as good of a job I can. My dad offers to stay with me as I start the cake but I let him go off home. The cake is extremely personal for me to make, honestly, and I just don't want him to do what I know he would and try to help. I want to make it all by myself. I want to be able to tell her that I made this cake 100% by myself. Not me and my dad, but I did. It's dumb I guess, but I just felt the need to do such a thing. Besides, this was a birthday party, and my present was the cake.

I prep the doughs for tomorrow morning as it baked, happy to have something to do with my hands and to keep moving. I do last minute clean up, and when it's done I just wander aimlessly around, checking on the cake one too many times until it's finally done. I put it away so that I can decorate it tomorrow, and close up the shop. When I walk in the house I hear the television in the living room. I figure my father's in there, trying to get in some time relaxing before he has to wake up early tomorrow. I may be opening, but he still will be getting there early. Besides, after all the years I'm sure that he wakes up for opening hours all the time. I send him a nod and he gives me a smile as I go into the kitchen and find a plate wrapped in aluminum foil in the spot that I sit at. I heat it up and eat a quick dinner alone. Jakob is out of the house, unsurprisingly, and my mother is probably already in her room which I'm fine with. I feel my heart race when I look up at the clock on the microwave as I eat my food and realize that this time tomorrow I will be at the party. I'm tired, but the idea makes my mind race and I don't know how to feel. I'm excited and nervous, but I'm trying to keep my cool because if I'm being completely honest with myself I know that nothing is going to happen. Johanna's going to make fun of me, all of us will drink, I'll hold conversations with Katniss –– hopefully not just about math, and we'll all pass out somewhere.

As I'm doing the dishes I wonder _where_ we'll be sleeping. Of course Johanna will be in her room, and I'm sure that she'll pull Gale into it so that she can have him all to himself. Will we just sleep wherever we fall? Sleep in other rooms? On couches? I try and hurry up the dishes as my mind flickers to the idea of a tired Katniss pulling on my hand and having me sit down on a soft bed. Of her taking off my shirt to only put it on herself –– after I catch a view of her skin, taking off her own shirt, her bra –– and shimmies out of her pants. She gets me out of mine, lays me down and goes to lay down next to me. Her face is near mine, our breath mixing, and in my head I have no nerves near her. Her hand skims down my bare chest and ––

"Peeta?"

I freeze and collect my bearings. I'm still at the sink, my hands gripping the edge of it and my plate laying in it along with my utensils, clean and forgotten. They don't even need to go into the dishwasher probably. I try and think of that, clean plates, and not of what I was just imagining. I don't need to look down to know how into my daydream I was. But my father is behind me and I can't turn around. So I pick up the plate and start scrubbing and manage to get out a "Yeah dad?" without my voice squeaking. I'll call it an accomplishment.

"Just wanted to say goodnight. Going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow."

I nod and tell him goodnight, not stopping my unnecessary plate scrubbing until I hear his feet go up the stairs and the door open and close. I let out a sigh of relief and shake my head. I really hope I don't fall into these kind of thoughts when I'm at the party –– it'd be just too much. I put the dishes into the dishwasher and quickly make my way around, turning the lights off, locking the door, and leaving the porch light on in case Jakob decides to come home. I power through my nightly routine and just try to think of everything I'm doing and most definitely try not to think about where I let my mind wander to just before. I'm mostly successful, but when I chuck off my clothes to just sleep in my boxers and lay in my bed, I'm completely hard.

Not that I'm surprised, really. I didn't look down when I was at the sink, but I felt it well enough and I know that as I was downstairs turning off the lights my pants were definitely at the least slightly straining. It feels better to just be in my boxers and there's less discomfort. I think of maybe just ignoring it, just letting myself fall off into sleep and getting through tomorrow until Johanna picks me up. But in bed I toss and turn and find myself restless. I was tired before, still am, but my mind can't seem to focus, and apparently my cock can't seem to understand that it's time to go to bed. I don't speak aloud to it –– this time, shocking, really –– but I groan in frustration. I just want to go to bed. I know though that it'll feel good and it'll tire me down, so my hands find their ways into my boxers, and I let my mind finish that dangerous train of thought I was having before, the one that I most definitely should not think about for the reasoning of sleeping in the same house, maybe same room, as Katniss Everdeen tomorrow.

Still it's her hand I try to imagine instead of my own. I tell myself to try not to imagine a situation set in a scenario of tomorrow's party, but my mind just goes automatically back to where it was before, with us laying side by side and her in my shirt. Truly, I've never been in Johanna's house so it's not like I can actually picture how it looks. My mind is far from the interior design of the place though, and I try to imagine her leaning across me, her clothed breasts brushing against my chest as she pumps her hand on my cock and helps me to completion. I think of her voice, of how I've heard her say my name, and I imagine her saying it in my ear, breathy and raspy. I try to muffle my moan in my pillow as I finish, and quickly clean up and situate myself and get back under the covers. Like I expected, I'm tired and it seems like my body and mind are finally alright to give in to the idea of sleep.

My dreams are in the colors of the flames but when I wake up I can't remember exactly the details. Not that I have to. It was the fire, the accident, the flames around me that ended up with my leg getting messed up because of it. I'm half asleep when I'm in the shower, and as I wake up I realize that I'm half hard. "Not again," I mutter, and I don't do anything about it. I don't have time to sit in fantasy land until my release amongst my shower, I have to get to the bakery and open. I'm slightly irritated at my body and its lack of control, as well as completely nervous about tonight. Knowing my luck I'm going to fall or something, end up against her, and she's going to feel my rod straight cock digging into her just because of her presence.

I shake the thought. Not only is that kind of negativity not helping me have a good mood, but it's also not helping my half-mast I'm sporting, so I instead think of all the dough waiting for me to knead out and bake.

When I do get to kneading the dough, I'm in a better mood. I have a cup of black tea to help boost some caffeine in me as well as eating a piece of sourdough from the day before. The ovens are on and my morning has begun. It is Saturday. My dad joins me soon enough and we navigate our way through the morning well with a steady amount of people coming through. In between the breakfast and lunch rush I prepare a buttercream icing, as well as separate some of it to make it green. Johanna gave me an important piece of information and I'm determined to not have it go to waste. Of course, she can be messing with me. I don't think it'd be out of line to question whether she was on this aspect. But the fact of the matter is that it fits Katniss pretty perfectly, for her favorite color to be of the trees that surround her home, the trees that she spends time in whenever she's not stuck in school or whatever else she does in her spare time. Besides that, what if it isn't her favorite color? Only Johanna would know that I tried to win favor through the color picking, and even if she announced it to everyone that she told me Katniss' favorite color was green when it wasn't, it wouldn't be a big deal. It's not like green is an _offensive_ color.

I'm overthinking things. It isn't the first time and I'm sure it won't be the last.

My shift seems to pass by quickly and I set to work in the afternoon when it's slow on the cake. I'm able to keep my mind blank as I work –– thank god –– and so no nerves are in me as I concentrate on the details I'm putting in. By two o'clock I'm done and back at the house. I take another shower because I don't want to just sit in a sweaty sugary smell, and change into jeans, a white tshirt and a plaid long shirt. I roll up my sleeves, and then roll them down. I don't know what to even do to pass the time until Johanna is going to pick me up, so after walking around my room mindlessly for a bit, I sit at my desk and attempt to get some homework done so my Sunday isn't packed with it.

A knock on my opened door sounds and I turn to see my brother leaning against it with his one eyebrow up. "What are you doing?"

I glance at my desk and then back at him, holding the same facial expression as him. "Homework."

"You know it's about 4:30pm on a Saturday, right?"

"I have plans later," I tell him and will myself not to blush. Why am I even blushing? Because it's so obvious how much of a loser my older brother perceives me as? Because my later plans involve a the birthday party of a certain girl I've been in love for nearly my entire life?

He misreads my red cheeks and starts to smile and walks more into my room. "Does Peet have a hot date tonight?"

I blush more against my own will, because apparently my body just wants to have my older brother completely on my case and making fun of me. "No. It's a birthday party."

He comes in closer and I hate his stupid smirk. "So a hot girl will be there."

I turn back to my schoolwork. "I'm busy right now, Jakob." I can't even remember the last time we had a conversation, besides when he pulled me aside at school because he heard rumors about Johanna Mason and me. Every now and then there will be a dose of older brother between us, usually with him either making fun of me or being way too explicit in his details of his night, as if he needs to get it out of his system. And then at school we don't exist to each other, at home it's a couple words of bickering. But we'll have these moments of brotherhood –– or more of, moments of him exploiting his older brother status upon me –– that usually just end with either him laughing at me or the two of us mad at each other. We used to end up every now and then wrestling as well after one, in a joking matter usually, but I can't exactly do that anymore since my leg.

"Who is it?" He asks me, and there's no way I'm going to tell him.

I don't look at him. "No one. Go away," I tell him and my voice is clipped. I look down at my history text book and try to memorize the maps with the highlighted states and the years of seceding.

He stands up and just laughs as he claps me on the back. "Alright, alright, little brother. Just make sure you _take care of things_ before the party, yeah? Don't want to make a mess of it all."

I shake my head not even really listening. "I don't know what you're even talking about Jakob. Bye."

He sighs, and I turn to look at him. "I'm telling you to jack off before the party. If you don't you're going to be all wound up and, no offense, you're not exactly the ladies man. You need to relax."

I'm beet red. It's bad enough when my brother indulges on his sexual endeavors to me, but this is a whole brand new 'Jakob Mellark Brother Advice.' "I––"

He smiles and claps my shoulder again. "Have fun tonight, Peet. Maybe someday soon you'll have your own stories about your adventures of the woman's body to share with me as we work together."

_Ass._ I just flip him off and he laughs as he leaves my room, closing the door.

I shake my head and try to go back to studying the map but I realize that I have no ability to concentrate any longer. My brother's "advice" is running through my head and all I can think of are disasters in which I get hard at the party. Where someone notices. The mortification if Johanna notices, because I'm sure it'd become some kind of party event in such a case. I shake my head and rid my thoughts of those types of things happening and make my way to the bakery. I'm really early and I barely even had time since my shift, but I tell my dad that I'm going to help around before I get picked up for the party. I change in the bathroom quick to a "Mellark's Bakery" shirt and take charge of the register. I offered to help in the back but my dad told me he didn't want me to get "all sweaty and flour all over me for the party." I stop myself from thinking of when I had flour on my cheek and Katniss noticed, stop myself from thinking_ well maybe it wouldn't be too bad if so..._

At quarter to six I leave the perch at the register and go back into the bathroom in order to change. Johanna will be at the store relatively soon and we'll be going to the party. My dad took the cake out and boxed it and it's waiting for me. The anticipation is running through me for the entire night, much worse than I ever experienced. Even worse than at the last party where I knew Katniss was going to be there. I didn't know her then so I guess in that vein I was more nervous, but at the same time this is a whole different level. It was a party_ for_ her. That I was invited to by her (and Johanna too, but, you know, whatever). She _wanted _me there. If she didn't she wouldn't have even brought it up let alone invite me. It's a sleepover, and I'm sure that Johanna will make sure that there's an excess of social lubrication in the form of alcohol between everyone. Nerves are at a peak and I don't know how to deal with them, so of course my brother's words of wisdom on how to relax come to my mind.

"No," I mutter to myself and shake my head. I'm not going to do that, I'm not going to "jack off in order to relax my nerves" in the bakery's bathroom. But I'm strung too tight and half hard already. The thought of Johanna Mason picking me up in my current state is a thing to laugh at in itself. I'd never live it down. So in the middle of the bathroom with my shirt off in the middle of changing, I drop my pants as well. "God dammit," I mutter aloud but clear my head of my doubts and embarrassment as I grip myself. I try to not lose myself in a fantasy and just focus on the feeling of the movement of my hand upon my cock as I stand there and lean against the sink. I don't need any other pent up ideas of Katniss Everdeen floating in my head tonight, and I'm happy with myself to find that I'm able to finish without one and just mainly on feeling alone. I clean up efficiently and dress back into the white shirt and plaid combo as I step out and get the cake to set upon a table as I wait for Johanna.

She comes around soon enough. At 6:03 as the clock reads, she's outside and beeping and I send a goodbye to my father. He tells me to have fun and_ be safe_, and I stop myself from rolling my eyes and just tell him I will. Johanna drives an old black pick up truck, and I put the cake in the middle seat between us. There's several bags near my feet and I assume it's the alcohol.

"Mellark! Are you ready for tonight?" She asks me after I slap her hand when she tried to open the cake box and sneak a peak at it.

"No," I answer honestly.

She laughs and turns up the music to an angry Alanis Morissette. "I should've figured that." The engine revs and we're off towards the Seam. She sings along a bit off key but not caring. I wondered in the back of my head if I should've made sure that she didn't drink before she drove, but she seems completely sober. I'm extremely grateful for that. I try and watch the road names as we get into the Seam. The language of the road names between the Townies and the Seam is staggering, and I love to read all of these names. We turn down a road name Pine Trail and park in front of a decent sized house. The lights are on and through the coming sunset through the trees I can see a moderately sized log cabin-like house. I love the feeling of it immediately, and it seems to fit perfectly within the landscape of the trees surrounding. The space between the houses in the Seam is bigger, although the houses are smaller. I grab the cake and go to grab some alcohol but Johanna takes them and tells me to "cut the gentleman bullshit."

We're right at the front door and I take a deep breath. I can hear the sound of music blasting inside and Johanna turns to look at me with her eyebrows raised. "You okay there?" She asks.

"I'm fine," I tell her, my voice determined to not pay mind to my nerves. _Fuck it,_ I tell myself. It's not use to worry too much over it all anymore.

Her smile to me is borderline barbaric. "Well, welcome to my house then, Peeta Mellark," She says, and she opens the door.


	9. I want you to want me

**a/n:** this party is going to be in more than one part –– so here's the first one. I guess you can consider the ending a cliffhanger but I don't mean it as such –– it's just the cleanest part to end it. I'm already writing the next part so I'm looking to have it up in the next couple of days! Thank you to all the reviews follows, favorites, etc. They mean a whole bunch, really and I totally appreciate them/try to get to all of them. So we have a couple of chapters of high school parties! okay so this is not me condoning underage drinking, do I need to throw that out there? I'm not going to get into my own stories but there are parts of my growing up/high school times in here and things but overall don't do this kids it's bad etc.  
my tumblr blog (same url as here because I'm full of 1000000% creativity and hot pies) is all about awkward boners and my personal life basically, but if you want to shoot me a message in regards to this you can do it there or pm me here.

thanks to **mari** for reading my words to the point of ridiculousness as well as being my sanity, **colleen** being perf and the reason this is written. **kismet4891** for keeping me on track with what's needed in fanfics.

* * *

_I want you to want me  
__I need you to need me  
__I'd love you to love me  
__I'm begging you to beg me  
_**I want you to want me | cheap trick**

**.09.**

The music seems to hit me first with it all, a loud wave of sound seeming to wash over me. There's loud grungy electric guitars and I hear some voices over the music, but her front door opened up to a small hallway that is deserted so I don't see anyone yet. "If you want to take your shoes off you can put them there," She nods to the side where I see a bunch of other shoes thrown. Jackets are also piled but I don't add my things to it all. I'm fine with having my shoes on, as long as Johanna isn't forcing me to take them off as custom in her house like some people's houses I've been to. And anyway, I'm keeping my long shirt on and don't have a separate coat –– I just hope the party doesn't take a turn for the outside. I really rather not have to scramble for my things in the morning, no matter what kind of state I wake up in.

She doesn't take off her shoes either but she shrugs off her large leather jacket and throws it not even looking back. Her red shirt is almost a second skin and comes to a low v that leaves nothing to my imagination as I avert my eyes. But she was watching me, of course, and so she smirks. "Like what you see? Wanna forget that little crush of yours and let me have my way with you? Give the school some real rumors to talk about?"

I shake my head and look away from her. The idea of anything sexual with Johanna is actually borderline frightening to me; her power and knowledge and domination over me in a situation like that is just too much and I try not to think of it. "I thought you were exclusively fucking Gale anyway," I say to her, and I try to use her lingo without seeming like a bumbling blushing virgin that I know she's looking at me like.

She steps closer and I know now that I'm red in the face and I feel flustered as I step back. "I'd make an exception for you, Bread Boy," She tells me and winks as she lets her eyes go down. I don't listen as she makes a comment about a Bread_stick_. I thank everything within me –– I thank Jakob too, there's a first for everything –– that I'm not hard and she can't further mock me. She seems satisfied in her joke and realizes that she won't raise me (_dammit_, mind) to take it further and smiles friendly at me, as if she wasn't just insinuating having sex with me. "Come on, Mellark. Relax, it's a fucking party. Now let's bring that cake to the kitchen so we can get some alcohol running through our systems."

Once we get out of the hallway I see people. I recognize people's faces and names from the main fact that most of them are older than me and I'm therefore basically obligated to know who they are just like they are obligated to not know what my name is at all. There are people from my grade –– _our _grade, mine and Katniss' grade –– and I've been in the school system with some of them since preschool so of course I know all of their names and faces. It's not too hard really, in our small town. I can only imagine how it'd be if I had to remember five hundred people just alone in my grade like I've heard of the schools in nearby bigger towns and cities. Well the cities, they were even worse. In the kitchen there's a keg in the corner that a couple of people stand around as well as a couple liquor bottles in varying levels of consumption along the table. Johanna drops the bag on the table and looks up and smiles. "There's the birthday girl!"

I make sure I put the box down first before I look at her. When I do I'm absolutely stunned, but I guess I always am. She's scowling, and I can only assume that it's because her hair is down and the "birthday girl" tiara on her head –– there is no way she picked that out for herself. But as much as I love her smile, love it in its subtlety and rarity, her scowl is something I love as well. I'm biased and a blundering fool for her, I know, but just the sight of it makes me want to smile and try to find a way to have it relax off of her face. Not that we're at all in the type of friendship where I could do that, really. Are we even friends? We have to be, she invited me herself to her birthday party. So we're friends. Somewhat. Not the type of friends that can joke a scowl off each other's (hers, really, I don't think I'll probably ever scowl in her presence) face. Yet.

_Yet._

She's wearing an overlarge Joan Jett shirt, tight (_dear god_) black pants, and chunky boots. I'm sure it was Johanna that got the heavy eyeliner on her; it resembles Johanna's even. I try not to stare at how she looks in these clothes, how she looks with her hair down, with everything about it all, really, because all I'd need would be for her –– or worse, really, for Johanna –– to notice, so I direct my smile at her face. Her scowl lessens and Johanna comes to her and swings her arm around her shoulder. "We come bearing booze and food!" She announces, and quickly hands a large bottle to Katniss.

Katniss looks at Johanna, not even truly acknowledging me (I try not to take it personally). "Food?"

Johanna gets that crazy smile of hers on again as she just turns and gets herself a large bottle identical to Katniss'. "Peeta, say hello to the birthday girl and tell her what you brought." She doesn't even turn around when she barks out the order.

I turn to Katniss and she's eyeing my suspiciously. I get a cup thrusted in my hands, courtesy of Johanna –– still not looking at us –– and I eye it suspiciously. It's dark, and I can definitely smell alcohol, but both her and Katniss have bottles and I'm just wondering exactly what kind of concoction she's handing me. She rolls her eyes when she turns around and sees I haven't a) said anything to Katniss because I'm b) staring at my drink that I haven't c) consumed still. "It's rum, Blondie. You said to get you rum, I got you rum. That's a good ol' rum and coke there. Drink up me hearties yo ho, and all that drunk pirate talk." She makes a shooing gesture with her hand and I take a deep breath and take a sip.

It's strong –– definitely much stronger than I wanted. But I figured that's what it'd be; Johanna fixed my drink afterall. The liquid burns at the back of my mouth a bit but the coke fizzes and almost smoothes it down, and I want more. I also want to cough, the liquor burning. But I don't take another sip and I hold back the feeling of an itch at the back of my throat as I listen to the other thing that Johanna said to do: I have to say hello to the birthday girl. She's still watching me, one eyebrow cocked and yet still a scowl somehow is there on her.

I offer her a smile and signify doing a cheers to her with my drink. "Hey, Katniss. Happy Birthday," I tell her.

She only hesitates for a second before she cheers my drink with her own bottle and we both drag our respective drinks to our lips as we drink more. There's a big forty at the top of the label of hers and I see that she tries to fight back showing a slight grimace after she's done taking a sip of her drink as well. She looks at me, then at the box on the table, and then back to me. "Why did Johanna say booze and food?" She asks suspiciously.

I offer her a quick smile and nod to the box to confirm her thought. "Well every birthday party needs a birthday cake, and seeing as how I work in the bakery..." I trail off and scratch behind my head and don't look at her. Is she going to get mad at this? I know that she has a tendency to not take something like this exactly well –– that moment of our interaction before this year that I try to not think about flashing before my eyes but I shove it away –– but I'm not meaning it as _charity_. "Well, I couldn't have us eating box-made cake if I could help it," I tell her, and I lift one cheek up in a smile.

She's still for a moment, but then her eyes crinkle, and I can almost see a smile, I can feel it in the air as she relaxes. I relax as well. "You di––" She struggles with her words and I can't help but find it adorable. "Th–Thanks." She looks at me, her cheeks slightly red at having to say thank you.

I smile wide at her and hope my cheeks don't burn like I know they want to and I nod –– probably a little over–enthusiastically. Johanna comes back over by us at that moment, and I notice that Madge and Gale are with us as well now. Gale has a can of some sort of beer as well as a separate cup in his other hand that is probably from the keg in the corner. His jeans are dirty and ripped but not in the way that my mother would scoff at because _Seam Trash cannot keep up a damn good appearance _and more in a way that made it seem purposeful. He has a long black shirt on and a flannel but that is tied around his waist. Madge seems to pop out from this group not only for her not–Seam looks but also from her choice of wardrobe with a side ponytail, a tied shirt and colorful leggings. I try to stop distracting myself, take another sip of my drink (less wincing after my sip, and I am slightly proud of it), and look over at Johanna because I know she has something in mind to say; she's the ringleader in a lot of this and she came over here with a purpose.

"Can we take a peek at the cake? We'll have it later, after we weed out some of the lightweights and only the VIPs are left. Come on, Cake Boy." I wonder briefly for a second if I'm part of the group she wants to weed out, but I don't think I am (I hope I'm not).

"Cake Boy?" All of these "boy" nicknames are getting old fast.

She smirks and steps closer. "Oh that's right, you're a_ man_. Cake _Man_. I made a man out of you in that tub last party, right?"

My face, I know, is red and she's laughing along with a couple other people. I wonder if she has a bet with someone, or herself even, to see how many times she can make me blush. "Jesus Johanna, come on! You're the one that started that rumor and I really don't want to have to deal with that again." I don't want to look over at Katniss at this point. At all. They all know it was a joke but I can't look at her.

"Alright, alright, fine! Peeta! That better? _Peeta,_ would you show us the cake?" She uses my name and stops laughing.

I look at the others' faces and I see that they all look pretty excited at the idea, and even Katniss looks curious. I'm excited and nervous, but I nod, and carefully open the box. A couple of other people come around by where we are crowded and I suddenly feel like this is some sort of art critique and they're going to judge my work. I know it ultimately doesn't matter, that these people will be too drunk to probably even use utensils, but I'm nervous because I just want Katniss to like it. I hear a couple of intakes of breaths when I move the box out of the way, and I wonder if any of these kids actually have been able to have a bakery-made cake for a birthday. It's not even that special of one, but it seems to be to them.

The music is playing and people all around us still talk, but our group is silent for a bit. Finally, Johanna mutters, "Damn you're good," And I can't help but smile slightly. I _am_ satisfied with how it came out. It's not too showy but it shows a definite "from the bakery" feel to it all, and is something I feel proud of. My ongoing work on the wedding cake is still of course up in the air, a hit or miss, but that has a lot of pressure. And although there was pressure with this because it's for Katniss Everdeen, there's also barely any because the people here weren't even really expecting a cake let alone a bakery-grade one. It's half a sheet cake, and from the top view it seems pretty plain. The icing is just a plain buttercream and in green I wrote just the simple message of "Happy Birthday Katniss!" I also made both vanilla and chocolate cake inside, not knowing which anyone would prefer. I used Johanna's tip of green being Katniss' favorite color and I used the dark green buttercream I made for the edges. I went in after with a couple of different lighter greens (which really, it's easy to make with just adding more white buttercream) and creating swirling designs in the shape of trees. I'm a bit proud with how it came out, and seeing everyone's face of surprise I'd say I did a pretty good job.

"It looks great, Peeta," Madge finally tells me and squeezes my shoulder. I smile in thanks.

"How did you––" Katniss is looking at the cake in awe.

I feel my cheeks burn a bit and I try to guess what she's asking. "The green? That's your favorite color, right? Johanna said so."

She looks at me finally and smiles. My heart stutters a bit. "Thanks," She gets out, and then stronger, "Thank you." She already said thank you before, and I even tell her, "Don't mention it," but I feel so incredibly warm every time she says thank you. Katniss Everdeen is not known to give out thank yous, and I know that most likely she wants to tell me that I really shouldn't have, that it's stupid, but maybe it's the alcohol she's drinking, or maybe people told her to just accept if anyone gives her anything. Or maybe she genuinely wants to tell me thank you for this, that she truly and genuinely appreciates that I made this for her. My smile grows slightly at the thought.

Johanna slaps my back and I almost spill my drink. "It's a very nice cake, it is. So what'd you use as icing? Hmm? All that _white stuff _on top?"

"It's...icing..." I'm confused and looking at her with an eyebrow cocked and she just smirks as she wiggles hers at me and her eyes for a second go down. My face turns red at the implication and I force her hand away from me. "Did you really just go there, Johanna?" Fuck. I should start my own count of how many times I curse her, to rival the count of the times she makes me red.

"Johanna, stop making the kid as red as your shirt and keep your comments about his dick to yourself," Gale throws at her and she rolls her eyes with a "fine." She winks at me though, so I'm sure that the comments will still keep coming.

"I'm not a kid," I mumble quietly into my cup as I try to take a big gulp (and I wince,_ like a kid_). Katniss watches me and smirks a bit when I mutter, so I know she heard me. She takes her own sip.

Johanna grabs my hand and the glint is in her eye. "Come on Cake _Man_, let's get everyone to the living room and dance." I quick glance at Katniss and she's looking right at me so I look back to Johanna. I know I can't get out of it so I just nod and make sure to take a big sip of my drink –– which she makes sure to refill before getting to the living room. My head feels light already, and this is usually the point where I stop drinking. I take another big gulp, and I don't even have to flinch. Did Johanna put less rum in this drink? Not likely. I probably am just getting used to it all and used to the taste.

Katniss, Gale and Madge, along with a couple other people in the kitchen follow us and we're all amongst a bunch of moving bodies. It's hard at first, the alternating between taking a drink and dancing, because I know to be able to deal with this I'll definitely need to be more than "just buzzed." So when the girls scream out as a Spice Girls song eventually comes on, I stop my movements as I stay on the "dance floor," and take slow sips. Johanna dances around me as she sings the words, trailing her hand on my chest, but then she grabs Gale and thrusts into him in a way that I have to stop watching and take a quicker sip. Madge and Katniss dance together, and when Madge turns to me, smirking, I see that Katniss is hesitant. But then the song is over and the group all comes back together. I'm still looking at Katniss, and she's looking right at me. I take a sip of my drink, I take a step closer, and I see her tense up.

"I––" She starts off, and she takes a step back as she looks away. I try to keep the disappointment off my face. "I need to make my rounds. You know," She points at her tiara and makes sure to not look at me. "Birthday girl necessities."

"Yeah well, you like us best so get back to us soon," Johanna calls after her but she's already disappearing in the crowds. Madge finds my hand and lightly squeezes while looking at me like I'm some sick three legged puppy, and I take my hand away from her. I know she's doing it just because she cares about me, but I don't want it. I take a long sip of my drink as the next song comes on, which is familiar but I can't place right away.

"Cheer up and just listen to the music, Mellark," Johanna tells me as she stands in front of me and rolls her hips in a way that the rest of her body follows fluidly. She sings along with the song when the lyrics come on, and it's a Rolling Stones song.

_I'm so hot for her, I'm so hot for her, I'm so hot for her and she's so cold  
__I'm so hot for her, I'm on fire for her, I'm so hot for her and she's so cold  
__I'm the burning bush, I'm the burning fire, I'm the bleeding volcano  
__I'm so hot for her, I'm so hot for her, I'm so hot for her and she's so cold_

"Are you fucking kidding me," I murmur into my drink as I bring it to my lips again and take another big gulp I'm starting to doubt the idea of coming here. Johanna comes closer, and she's still singing to me the words.

_Yeah, I tried re-wiring her, tried re-firing her, I think her engine is permanently stalled  
__She's so cold she's so cold, she's so cold cold cold, like a tombstone  
__She's so cold, she's so cold, she's so cold cold cold like an ice cream cone  
__She's so cold she's so cold, I dare not touch her my hand just froze_

"Johanna, stop," Madge says, who's standing next to me. We're in our own little bubble amongst everyone else it almost seems and Johanna is the only one dancing. Gale looks disinterested and tries to sneak glances past me as he casually drinks one of his two drinks. Madge on my other side just watches Johanna as she shakes her head. Johanna doesn't listen and I have more of my drink until it's done.

I stand there for a bit. 'Just listen to the music Mellark,' Johanna's voice repeats in my head.

_She's so cold, she's so cold, cold, she's so c-c-c-old, but she's beautiful, though  
__Yeah, she's so cold, she's so cold, she's so cold, she was born in an arctic zone_

"I'm getting more to drink," I announce and I don't care who listens as I push through the crowd, push past Johanna, and make it back into the kitchen. I can still hear the music and as I step into the place it runs through me. _She's so cold she's so cold, cold, cold_, _I dare not touch her my hand just froze._

Yeah, it seems like Mick Jagger learned his lesson in a way I can't seem to.

I shake my head and then regret it when I'm in the kitchen, and squint from the amount of light. Were the lights this bright when we were in here just before? They hurt my head and it feels like it's loose upon my neck but I shake off the feeling and go to the table, not looking at the stupid cake I made. I want to throw it to the ground right now but instead I look at the liquor bottles and read the labels until I find the one that says "rum." I pour it in my glass, along with some more coke, and I make my way through the house along the edges of the living room. Gale and Johanna are dancing together, or more of just rubbing their lower halves together as they basically fuck with their eyes, and Madge is off on the other end talking to someone else and not paying attention.

I don't go back over to them, and even if they weren't grinding upon each other I wouldn't. I don't want to deal with them, so I just stand off to the edge and drink more of my drink in hopes that it can take away the feeling of absolute wallflower from me that doesn't belong here. I feel like a spotlight is on me that screams "Look at that kid standing all alone!" but at the same time, no one even looks over at me. I'm borderline at the feeling of just wanting to walk home and lock myself in my room as I blast some Morissey through my Walkman, but I stop myself from doing such a pathetic thing. Just because the girl of my dreams blew me off and can't even look at me for more than three seconds shouldn't hurt this bad. Definitely not.

I bring my drink to my lips again.

After a couple of songs I go to the bathroom and pee even though I don't have to that bad, just to give me something to do. I look at myself in the mirror for a while and take a deep breath. If she's so uncomfortable at the idea of me just taking a step towards her, why did she even invite me? I wonder if Johanna took it another step too far, if Johanna told her about my "little crush," and Katniss invited me as a fluke. I run my hands over my face a couple of times and try to shake the idea off but it's stuck on me now. I can just see Johanna sitting there laughing at the little Townie fool in the stories that Katniss tells her of how he tries to woo her. In my mind Katniss laughs too as she accounts for every attempt that I've made to be nice and all my attempts at humor are laughed at instead of with. I finish my next drink and I step out of the bathroom as someone starts to pound on the door. I head straight back into the kitchen and go to make myself another drink when I see that the rum is gone.

"You're drinking awfully fast, Peeta. I've never seen you drink this much at a party." Madge is at my side and watching me as I look for more rum. There's tequila and vodka, but I don't want them. I've heard bad stories about tequila (it makes guys angry and girls take their clothes off ––_ it's great!_, my brother says) and vodka both, and I just am comfortable with the devil I've come to know this evening.

"Different party, different drinking," I mutter and look over at the keg that has a couple of people standing there and pumping it and serving. I make my way over and fill up a cup, and Madge does too. She looks at me disapproving but doesn't say another thing. The foam dies down a bit and the beer is shitty, but it's to be expected.

"Do you want to go back on the dance floor?" Madge asks me.

"No," I tell her and drink more of the shitty beer.

She sighs. "Look Peeta, I get it. You're upset that she didn't fall into your arms right away, but did you expect her too? That's not her, and you know it. That's not who you fell in love with all those years ago, and don't get pissy at her for that. It takes her a while to process emotions, but you're more patient than this crabby brat I'm seeing right now, so buck up." And with that she's gone.

I'm left standing there with my mouth opened like a fish out of water for a bit. Madge never has talked to me like that and I'm completely surprised. But I did deserve it. Everything she said is true and I feel like a pretty big idiot for how much I'm letting it impact me. I know how Katniss is, at least enough to know that she isn't the type to take a step towards a boy that steps towards her. Not right away, maybe not ever, but definitely not right away. But maybe I'm less mad at her for being her and more mad at me for being me. Maybe I'm just mad at myself for letting a girl wrap herself so tightly around me, for being so hopeless and helpless after one human being. I shake my head and feel it spin away from me and stumble a bit. I've drank more than I've ever drank, but I still take another big gulp of the beer in my hands as I go back to standing among the edge of the living room. There's less people already around so I am able to see a table with snacks a little away that I go over to and grab myself a cup full of pretzels. Katniss is back in the living room, and I watch as she talks to a couple different people. She doesn't look over at me. She makes her way to where Madge made it back by Johanna and Gale. I try not to stare at them but I do a horrible job at that and end up doing so. No one is really paying me any mind so it doesn't matter, really. Katniss talks calmly with Gale who is active in the conversation, but is also watching as Madge talks to Johanna. They're a bit off from the other two and Madge looks a bit mad as she whispers into Johanna's ears. Johanna has a scowl on and she rolls her eyes.

Yeah, I wonder who they're talking about.

I go to look over at Katniss again, but I catch Gale's eye instead. He holds my gaze, and very slightly arches up one of his eyebrows at me. I look away as I take another sip of my beer and then walk out of the living room, not being able to deal with watching them anymore. I do another refill and step outside for fresh air. The night has a chill to it and the crescent moon peeks through the trees in a way I've never been able to experience seeing but always wanted to. I roll my sleeves down feeling the cold, but it seems not as cold as it was when we got in. Off a bit away there's a couple people huddled in a circle with a sweet smelling smoke between all of them, another group that are all against the walls smoking cigarettes and not looking at each other, and then another two people pressed into each other as they suck each other's face off. I stand on the porch for a bit and bounce slightly on my toes until I go to the corner and sit on the railing. It's probably not the best idea I've had, drinking and sitting on something that doesn't have a back, but the fall isn't too far and to be honest I'm really not that opposed to the idea of being knocked out.

I can still hear the music from inside and the lyrics flow through clearly when another three people come out to join the smoker's wall. Cheap Trick is on, _I want you to want me, I need you to need me, I'd love you to love me, I'm begging you to beg me. _"Dammit," I mutter under my breath and drink more of my beer. I'm wondering if Johanna made up this entire playlist herself as just another way to taunt me, but at the end of the song I hear the radio DJ's voices and realize that my luck is just at an all time high tonight and the radio station just apparently has it out for me. I'm probably a spectacular sight to these kids, most of them being Seam, and there I am a Townie sitting all alone and I wonder if I look like I'm brooding. I probably do. I'm trying not to frown or furrow my eyebrows but I most certainly am not smiling. I don't pay attention to the door to the inside where I can see into the living room or the groups that are outside as well. I have my forearms laying against my knees and my cup dangles in between them as I hang my head and just feel the world spin a bit. I'm definitely some parts drunk, and I'm definitely just drinking alone. This all definitely wasn't at the top of my to do list for the evening, but then again I knew not to try and make one.

I get off the railing instead of bringing my head up because I have a feeling the momentum would have slammed me to the ground. I lean against the railing instead and slowly nurse the keg beer. My leg has a dull burn and I shake it out against the cold of the night. The groups move around, I hear them leaving and coming, but I stay where I am and stay alone. Or alone until after a bit I feel another's presence by me.


	10. I wanna dance with somebody

**a/n:** This was supposed to come out earlier this evening but I by accident fell asleep - sorry about that! A lot of you tried to guess who was coming out to talk to him! Only a couple of you were able to guess right, but this chapter's a long one to make up for the time waiting and such. Now some things to talk about.

––I'm going to be doing an **outtakes series for Lovefool**, so if there are any scenes you want to see in another person's pov let me know! I have some planned, and they originally were going to just be Katniss POV things, but I'll probably end up doing some Johanna POV as well. I have some planned out, as well as have talked to a couple people about others they want to see, but I'll take suggestions whenever you come up with some.  
––This story got nominated in an "Energizer WIP Awards" blog! It's pretty cool and I'm a bit proud. I've added links on my profile to the site and all, so check that out if you want.  
––Also, I got a guest review questioning some of my decisions with my characterization of Peeta. I would just discuss it with them, but seeing as how they felt a need to hide who they were with a criticism, I'll do it here. I guess I read Peeta different from you. I don't take the sunny blue eyed perfect merchant that Katniss reads of him, and being that the books are in her pov, we don't truly get to know 100% if our take on his character is true. This is how I read his character, and how I interpret it into a more modern-esque type of feeling to it all. If you don't like it, sorry about that. I'm not looking to write some silly "and then they kissed and found true love" high school au, which if you do, great, I probably read it. But that's not what I'm writing. If you look at the other things I've posted, that's not the type of writing I do. I'm writing a story about kids in high school, and sometimes high school sucks. Being upset and feeling unable to fit in at a party where you barely are friends with anyone doesn't make you have a "disorder," as whoever the guest reviewer referred to it all as. That's a very immature take on mental disorders, and I'd please ask you to educate yourself upon them besides just reading "Perks of Being a Wallflower," –– which, no, that also is not what this story is going to become, and is not even an inspiration for this story. The time of being a teenager can be lonely, embarrassing, and you go through a lot of change, for better or for worse. So that's what I'm writing.

Okay, sorry to get preachy, but seriously. If you have something to critique with my writing, that's fine! Bring it to my attention and make me a better writer. But can we not hide behind anonymity? I'm not going to bash you and set hounds on you. I'll discuss what you mean, and probably thank you for your efforts. So let's play that game from now on, shall we? I'd appreciate it a whole bunch.

Sorry for the long author's note. Let's get on with it.

* * *

_oh, I wanna dance with somebody_  
_I wanna feel the heat with somebody_  
_yeah, I wanna dance with somebody_  
_with somebody who loves me**  
**_**I wanna dance with somebody | whitney houston**

**.10.**

Johanna's voice comes to me. "_Whaaaassup_?" She says, in that annoying way that seems to be becoming a trend right now.

I don't want to talk to her now, or for the rest of tonight, or maybe even ever again, so I don't answer. She waits for a bit and I can feel her looking at me, but I don't look at her as I take the last sip of my beer. Well, might as well go inside and get some more and then avoid Johanna Mason again. I push myself off from leaning against the railing, but then Johanna's hand is on my chest and she pushes me back. I turn and look at her with a questioning challenge in my eyes. I'm about done with being intimidated by this girl and I just want to get out of her hair so maybe I can find a place to curl up and sleep until I leave in the morning.

She doesn't say anything but she's still holding me back so I hold up my cup. "I need more beer."

"You need an escape excuse," She says, and I don't refute it. She holds a new bottle in her hand, one with the "40" on the top of the label and pushes it into me. "Here, we can share. Now you don't have a reason to run away from me and we can talk."

I look around and notice that there's no one left on the porch. There's a couple people off in the lawn and surrounding treeline –– I can hear voices and whispers and who knows what else –– but for the most part, we're alone. I keep my groan inside my head, and take the bottle from her and intake a pretty big gulp. It definitely tastes better than the keg beer, but I think probably rum is my drink of choice out of all the shitty things we had available today. Another gulp, and then I hand it back to her. She takes her own sip and the two of us are quiet for a moment. I'm not looking at her and she's not looking at me.

"So," she finally says but stops, and there's silence between us again. "This night not turning out how you expected?"

I snort and shake my head. I look over to her and she hands the bottle back over to me. "I didn't have really any expectations," I tell her, and even I can hear how clipped my voice Is.

"I took it too far with the song," She tells me, and I look over at her with a cocked eyebrow. I swig the beer into my mouth again, and then give it back to her. She took it too far with the names, the constant bringing up of my cock, in many aspects. And I'm mad at her for it, but I didn't expect her to say anything about it. And I'm not expecting her to apologize, I know she won't. So I sigh and let myself deflate a bit as I shake my head.

"You wouldn't be Johanna Mason if you didn't take it too far," I tell her, and she smiles at me and nudges my shoulder with her own. It's the closest we'll get to an apology, but I know that her sharing her alcohol –– she hands it back to me –– is another way of her apologizing without saying the words. I find that I am less angry at her, and instead just at the usual level of irritation I have found myself these past couple of weeks with her.

She laughs quietly to herself as we stand on the deck and drink. "You picked a hard nut to crack for falling in love with, Mellark," She quips as she takes another sip. I don't tell her how I didn't just go out and pick it, that I've tried a couple of times to not feel like this for her but it doesn't work. I think she knows all of this by now, it doesn't need to be said. "If you do get through though, you know... She's the closest thing I have to family in some aspects. I won't hesitate to kill you if you do her wrong."

I don't question the idea of Katniss being her family –– Johanna Mason is both a legend and a mystery since she showed up in town during her middle school days. There's rumors about her parents with just the general knowledge being they're not around, and her uncle in town was given custody of her when she was not even a teenager yet. And even then she was tough, giving my brother a black eye for example. I never actively thought of it before, but yeah, during our high school time Katniss has always been with Johanna during lunch, the one time when other grades could mingle. I've learnt also that Johanna shows her, well, affection for friends through non–organic ways, I guess you could say. So I wouldn't question that, the idea of Katniss being like family.

But I am slightly offended at what she's insinuating. "I wouldn't do her wrong, Johanna. I'd never –– I _couldn't_."

She chuckles. "I'm not saying I expect you to, but I still have to warn ya."

I nod and we stay silent for a bit, the alcohol passing back and forth between us. "Not that it matters anyway," I mutter, not wanting to talk about this but apparently my mouth has a mind of its own. I'm going to go ahead and blame the alcohol that I've been consuming the entire night, that I definitely should not consume anymore of. I take another sip as I see Johanna looking at me curiously. "She can't even look at me."

"God you're an idiot," She tells me as she takes the drink from my hands. Now it's my turn to look at her curiously. When she sees me looking she rolls her eyes. "Take it from one emotionally-stitled woman about another. She doesn't hate you. _You _know that she knows you exist, and you're pretty close to being in the realm of a friend, I guess, but she's really weird with labeling what people are."

"Wait, how do you know this? Did you talk to her? Has she talked to you about me?" The last thing I need is for Johanna to be a part of some chitchat where I'm the subject, I'm sure.

"Nu-uh, I don't give away those kind of details, or whether they even exist or not. But I'm telling you this just from outside looking in. Katniss doesn't let just anybody in. And you feel a bit iced by her, yeah, but it's been literally years since she's let someone new in."

I take a deep breath and nod. I guess I knew that of course, but it's just hard to translate in my mind. The people in my friend group in school, Delly and all of them, well I've been friends with most of them for years. But usually when I meet a new person it's a very friendly and open experience. Even with a couple of Seam kids that I've been partnered with in different classwork situations. I'm not saying that everyone was jumping out of their bones to be my friend or anything, but it was more just that they understood that interactions were to happen because we're in the same grade and I haven't been an asshole in the past. I'm happy of having that kind of reputation at least; that I'm not known as a_ Townie jerkass,_ or whatever they call the kids that bully those they see below them.

I sigh. "Alright, Johanna. Alright." She nods and we finish up her bottle with lazy talk that stays away from Katniss and –– thankfully, _surprisingly_ –– my cock. I sigh and figure maybe I should stop my little hurt act and see what's going on in the party. I ask if she's going to join me going back inside but she gives me a wicked grin as she opens that big leather jacket of hers and flashes another bottle of some alcohol. I roll my eyes and her smile falls away fast. She takes out a pack of cigarettes that she offers one to me and I decline, walking back inside.

I'm on my way to drunk, more drunk than I've been before, and every now and then I can feel it in my stepping and flowing through my head. I grab myself another drink, sipping slowly, because my mind seems to be able to lighten up with the more alcohol in it now after Johanna's pep talk, and I find I want to chase after feeling good. I see Madge inside and I make sure to apologize to her for how rude I was before. But she smiles, definitely further into her drinking than I am, and to make it up, I have to dance with her in the most ridiculous way to what's playing. Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" blasts, and we make fools of ourselves. I drink more. I don't get lost again in feeling bad about myself within the lyrics (_With somebody who loves me_), which I'm grateful for really because just the thought of me moping around to this Whitney Houston song is a funny yet-if-it-was-reality-pathetic sight in my mind.

It's hot with everyone so close to each other and the amount of movement. I tell Madge I'm going to grab another drink and head outside for fresh air and she nods, turning around and seeing someone that she transfixes on. I don't stay around to see who it is and go about with my business. I feel kind of embarrassed with myself with the stupid dancing me and Madge were doing (if you could even call that dancing, I really hope people weren't watching), but I brush it off. I pour myself another drink and look around at the amount of people around. There's still a decent amount of people in the living room, but mostly everything else is cleared out. It's only a matter of time, and my heart flutters because I will have to see Katniss soon, regardless of if she's ignoring me or not, because of the cake.

I step outside and take a breath of fresh air as I roll my sleeves back down. The night air feels nice on me. My buzz is strong and I work on replaying the pep talks Johanna and Madge gave me so that I don't end up Lonely Peeta Brooding Alone Outside again. I think I'm alone outside, but when I look at the end of the porch opposite of the house, I see Johanna sitting down with her upper back against the railing, a lit cigarette in one hand and a bottle of her newest poison in the other. She stares at the door.

I approach her cautiously and sit down as silently as I can next to her –– which is to say, loudly. I'm not exactly the silent type of person. She doesn't react, and it sets me a bit on edge. The quiet, focused kind of Johanna is not one I'm used to dealing with in the time I've come to know her, and I almost miss her taking a jab at the white icing earlier and wish she made some comment like that now along with her barking laugh. But she stares, she takes a drag of her cigarette, and she takes a pull of her drink. I want to ask her what's wrong but I don't at the same time. I'm actually scared myself at the idea that something can affect Johanna Mason this much. It's weird to see that she is able to be so serious, and her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration at something inside. I look quickly and scan the people, but I don't see anything that jumps out to me.

After a bit, she holds up her bottle and offers it to me. I don't know what it is but I have a feeling it's a bit too much for me and would take me down a road that I've seen many fall down in but have never been in myself. I shake my head and she shrugs, still not looking at me, still concentrating, and takes a harsh gulp of it with an audible exhale sounding afterwards. She's silent for a while longer, and then fishes out another cigarette. I wonder if she's been going one after another since I left here. The difference between her demeanor then and now is making me tense and I don't know how to make it better but I want to.

She talks eventually. "Look at them."

I'm confused with what she means, but when I look at her she just rolls her eyes and points her chin forward, towards the door that shows a clear vision of the living room. My eyes find Katniss immediately, and she's looking around and seems pretty uncomfortable. A couple people are talking to her, but it seems more like they're talking near her because she nods disinterestedly and looks around. I imagine myself sweeping in and taking her away from those people that are obviously boring her, but my mind blanks off at that moment. What would I even do after? As if I could be not equally boring as them? I don't let my imagination go off on that thought, I don't need to deal with fantasizing right next to Johanna ever, but especially not with her in this state.

"Who am I looking at?" I ask her, but I think I figure it out right when I ask. Behind where Katniss is, out of her eyesight but amongst all the people, are Madge and Gale. They're talking, standing a bit close to each other to hear over the music (Garbage is playing –– the band, not just some crappy music) and they both are swaying to the music slightly just so that they aren't staying frozen in the crowd. I turn and raise my eyebrow at Johanna, and she points her chin again at them as she takes another drink. Madge's hand seems to hover, as if she wants to place it on his but she doesn't make a move. Looking between the two of them, it's pretty clear that something exists between the two of them, or the want of something, but they're holding back.

I look at Johanna, confused. "What...?" I ask, trailing off.

Johanna nods and takes a drag of her cigarette. "He's liked her for a while now, and although she doesn't talk about it to me, tries to refrain from showing it near me, she likes him too."

"But aren't you two––"

"We're not dating," She says.

"Exclusively fucking," I add, using her terms.

She nods. "Exclusively fucking."

"But?" I try and prompt. It feels weird, having a conversation like this with Johanna, where I'm not the subject and it's her. And then I feel incredibly guilty and selfish for that thought, as if everything between us just has to come down to me and the girl I'm in love with and what she's dealing with doesn't matter.

She shrugs. "He likes her, but he isn't going to make a move. He hasn't yet and he won't if he has an excuse and an easy way out of frustration," She tells me. I figure her and their "arrangement" is the "easy way out of frustration," and I don't ask for further details.

"You're okay with that?" I know I'm uncharted territories. I wonder how many people have had a conversation with Johanna Mason that was about her, about her _feelings_. I can only hope I'm able to not piss her off.

"I'm not in love with him," she assures me. There's no added hostility that says she's trying to prove it to herself as well so I believe her. "I don't even like him that way. It's like how I told you. We're friends, we fuck."

"How did that arrangement start?" The concept of starting up a casual sexual relationship is almost borderline confusing to me, and I can't even picture myself having the ability to start such a thing.

Another drink. "Some conquest of his didn't play out right the same night that one didn't work out for me. We both fell back on each other, figuring how it'd be easy because we didn't have to use up any more of our time we already wasted on trying to seduce another person. The next morning we kind of just laughed about it, but decided that we'd become each other's fallback in case we didn't get what we wanted. Pretty soon we realized how much easier it is to just have someone picked out and not having to play a person and amp up the charm –– don't snicker at the idea of me having charm, Mellark –– and just decided to do what we're doing now. Exclusively fucking, for about half a year now."

There's a lot of movies out there, books too I'm sure (ones I'll probably never read), about two friends that fall into casual friends with benefits kind of scenarios like this and feelings always come about. The fact that it's been almost six months, I'm pretty sure that somehow feelings became a problem. "So you're not in love with him, you don't feel that way at all towards him?" She nods. "And you haven't at all the entire time you've been –– with him?" She nods again. "Well what about him?"

She stubs out her cigarette while she takes another drink as I do with my own. "No. We don't cuddle, and he doesn't try to hold me. There's no lingering glances. He's even talked to Kat about how it's a relief to not have to deal with romantics on either side with our relationship. I made her tell me, of course." She laughs as she takes another sip of her drink. "I don't know, I'm drunk. I've known that he liked her for a long time and it doesn't bother me. My drunken mouth is just rambling. I guess it's just a bit empty feeling sometimes."

It's something she definitely wouldn't admit sober, so I cautiously try to push the thought. "Empty? You want him to like you in that way?" I feel like I'm twelve with the way I worded the question, but the word "love" isn't doing any good in this conversation –– or any with Johanna.

"No!" She tells me right off. "No, I don't want that at all. I just..." She trails off and shakes her head. "Ugh. It's hard to describe. And I usually don't even feel it, you know? Just when I drink a bit too much of this vodka drink right here," She kicks the bottle she has on her with her foot. "It's not even that I want Gale to feel that way I just..." She takes a big inhale and lets it out. She's obviously uncomfortable talking about feelings, and I wonder how many times she does it. "It's not always fun not being anyone's first choice, y'know?"

"What do you mean?"

She shakes her head and drinks more, almost done with it. "With my mom and dad, now with my uncle. My uncle is great, don't get me wrong, but I wasn't a choice of his. Just kind of thrown to him after my mom died, being listed in her will as my caretaker. I got my friends, and my sex life is great. But sometimes it just feels like there's something missing. And I don't want it with Gale, and I don't want him to want it with me. But I see him wanting it with Madge, and I feel that. I feel that more than I've ever been able to feel any type of feeling like that towards anyone."

I'm silent for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts and figure out the best way to deal with this. My girl talks with Delly seem to be coming in handy, because it taught me definitely a way to be able to analyze people, or I guess more like analyze high schoolers overall. "We're still in high school, Johanna. You'll be out soon enough. Somewhere down the line you'll find someone that'll hook you, and you actually will enjoy it."

She shrugs, and I work on my own drink. "It's expected probably. A guy like Gale being dragged around by three girls. He kissed one, fucks another, he's bound to lust after the third."

My mind zeroes in on what she first said. "He what?"

She looks over at me, realizing what she said, and then just waves it off. "It was a while ago. Like I said, you never asked if Katniss had a first kiss. Gale had a crush on her and kissed her. Man, talk about awkward first kisses. Well don't worry Bread Boy, nothing happened after that and if he expected to like her more after it, it just affirmed in his mind the idea that friends is a better term when it comes to Katniss Everdeen."

I nod, and try to just put away the information without harping for every detail like I want to. "So you think it's just lust for Madge? For what he doesn't have?"

"Not just lust, no. I think he genuinely feels an attraction for her, but there's something stopping him from doing anything about it and it's not me."

I'm dumbfounded at what it could be. Gale Hawthorne seems to be the epitome of confidence among the female population, and I know I've heard groups of girls whispering about him while giggling. "What is it then?"

She looks at me pointedly. "An old train track," She says, and my eyes widen. He feels stopped by the Townie and Seam divide? I look away from Johanna, the accusation in her eyes too much for me. Because I find myself in quite a similar situation. The classism against the Seam is something I don't agree with, but I've used it in my mind a bunch of times as a sorry excuse for not trying to talk to Katniss, I know. I'm surprised, seeing as how even through the divide Madge is friends with them. Is that not enough? It makes me nervous, wondering how deep within these kids that grew up in the Seam that prejudice against them and against us in return runs. What if I could actually get through to Katniss, have her be able to not tense up in a non-school related event with me, would that even be enough? Or will this divide in the town stop anything else from being able to become? I guess I never took it into account because I don't feel it myself; I don't have a disgust towards the Seam or anyone that lives here. I try to focus instead back onto Johanna and the conversation, not get sidetracked into my own dealings. I have plenty of time for that, and I'm pretty sure the "Johanna actually has feelings" time is going to end soon enough.

She shakes her head one more time and finishes her drink. "Like I said, I don't even care about it usually. Vodka makes me a wimpy sap."

"It's not wimpy to have emotions, Johanna," I let her know.

She looks at me seriously for a moment like she's going to agree, but then she smiles. "You'd know a thing or two about that wouldn't you, Lover Boy?"

I let out a chuckle about myself. "Yeah, yeah. But seriously, it's okay to have feelings, and to let others see it."

She stiffens at my implications. "Yeah, maybe," she mutters and looks off for a bit. But then she tries to get her grin back on again. "Ah, whatever. I'll just fuck my frustrations out on that boy and be good as new." She tries to shrug off the whole conversation, and I let her. I'm not going to go and dole out advice in this kind of situation, because it's obvious that's not what she wants or needs. I don't even know what I'd say if she did want some. She just needed to rant out complicated things she feels, and I'm really happy that she turned to me to do so, even if it was just because I caught her at the time she was feeling them.

I roll my eyes. "Johanna I'm totally fine if you need to talk feelings with me but please don't tell me bedroom secrets of yours."

And like that, it's a switch. The Johanna with feelings is buried deep under again and her armour is up in the shape of a grin. "You sure? I can give you some tips y'know. Some ways to make Katniss sing if you can ever grow a pair and get her to feel 'em." I shake my head and finish my drink as she stands up. "Come on, let's go inside. I'm done with this whole feelings thing, and want all of these people out of the house so we can have cake."

I stand up, taking a bit of time since I was sitting and the cold is getting into leg. Well, the alcohol probably had a say in it too. I'm a bit wobbly, my mind is fuzzy slightly from both the alcohol and the conversation. "And how are we going to do that?"

She smiles at me and just tells me to follow her. She grabs Katniss on her way to getting towards Madge and Gale. I look over to Katniss and she looks disinterested still, but a slight smile threatens to come upon her. It's different from her usual ones that she fights against, easier, almost. I'm sure that it's the alcohol that fights off what seems to be a necessity of hers to scowl, and this time when she catches my eye she doesn't tense up. I smile, and she smiles back.

"It's cake time, birthday girl," Johanna says, tapping Katniss' crown. Everyone nods and Johanna nods as well. "You know what to do, guys," She says but then her eyes land on me. "Oh, well you don't exactly. Alright, Peeta, go with the birthday girl. She'll let you know what to do." I don't miss the glint in her eyes, and I know she's messing around with me on this. But I can't seem to care because I feel light. And when I turn to Katniss, she just nods and looks at me with no signs of running off. I'm sure my lack of being scared and her lack of being defensive is from the alcohol in our high school bodies, but I don't care. She smiled back at me, and I'm feeling better than I was just a while ago at the same party. And most people are going to leave...somehow.

Katniss starts to walk away from the others and I quick catch up to her. "So how are we going to make everyone leave?" I ask her.

She turns to me and smirks but doesn't answer as we continue walking through the crowd. I look around and we seem to be situated a bit into a corner by the table that has the snacks. Or had. They're all gone, but people are still hanging around the area and talking and/or dancing. I look around and I see that Madge, Gale, and Johanna have all gone around to areas near the other corners of the room.

Huh.

I look back at Katniss and she looks around at the people near us and then back at me. "Just try and play along alright?" She asks me.

"Alright."

She comes closer to me. "Trust me," She mutters and my heart races as she grabs my hand and tugs me to step closer to her as she steps closer to a clump of people near us.

"I do," I manage to get out. And I do, oh god I do.

She flashes a quick smile at me and nods as she lets go of my hand. I miss the contact, but it seems to fill with the feeling that her skin seems to cause upon mine. She still is standing close to me, and I try to keep my breathing normal. This girl will be the death of me. She winks (_winks_, for chrissakes) and then pauses, letting me know that the show begins. "Peeta, I think we have to go now," She tells me as she overplays her swaying, as if she's drunk. She doesn't try to talk quietly, in fact, she's talking quite loud.

I'm a bit lost but her voice saying _trust me, trust me,_ flows through my mind like blood. I'm sure she wants to get out some explanation why, so I have to prompt that. She keeps swaying though, and before I can think of not doing it, I bring my hands up to her shoulders and steady her. I want to forget this stupid game we have to do right now to get these people out and ask her: _Do you feel that? Is there electricity where I touch you, just like it seems to happen to me?_ I anticipate and dread the answer to the question, and I don't ask it. I get back to my task. "The night's still young, birthday girl."

"Yeah but," She stops and looks around. No one's really looking at us and she gets closer, and I bend down just slightly so that we're the same height. Her lips are near my ear and I have to force myself not to close my eyes or have them roll back as her warm breath hits me. She seems like she's going to whisper but her voice is loud –– loud enough for the people nearby to hear us. "The cops are here."

It's almost comical how it all acts out. The people right next to us who weren't paying attention just before are suddenly on high alert and repeat the word "Cops!" It flows through the area near us with people saying the word over and over. I look over and see that Johanna, Gale, and Madge have all done the same thing. Most people are now frantic and quickly placing their cups down. I see people that didn't drink try to calm down others that have definitely had too much, and tell them that they'll drive them home. Other people just run out the front door or the back to the road or the woods respectively, to get to their homes or wherever they decided they'd crash that evening. Not everyone apparently had a sleepover invite, and in the middle of our created chaos, I feel myself smile.

The others come towards us, as well as a couple other people that I guess are decidedly "cool" and therefore know this process of making people leave and know it's a hoax. I wonder what it'd be like if there were actual cops –– how confusing it'd be if it was unknown between this group (_and me_, I remind myself because I'm standing among them, _and me_) if someone was trying to really warn the others that there was a cop. There are lazy smiles all around as we watch everyone else scatter. Two people run out of the bathroom fixing their shirts and I try not to let my eyes widen. I'm not a fool, I know these things happen at parties. Hormones and alcohol don't mix too well in teenager bodies. Still, another two, the guy's shirt is completely gone and he drags the girl as she looks around for something, come out from some door down the hallway. Johanna mutters about them, something about how she said to _stay out of the fucking rooms down the hall you shitheads_, but she doesn't try to stop them or anything. They have a mission to get out. No one is even paying attention to the group of us not moving.

Within a couple moments, we're the only ones left. It'd be quiet but the music is still playing, the theme song to The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air on. Johanna starts laughing and we join in a bit. "Alright, alright. It's cake time for the birthday girl!" She announces and we all make our way to the kitchen.

"Cake time" also apparently means "Shot time," because when I get in there Johanna is already lining up several shot glasses. She picks up a bottle that wasn't out before and starts filling up all the glasses.

Katniss looks and groans. "Straight vodka, really Jo? You know I hate that."

"We all have to do things we don't like, Kitty-Kat," Johanna tells her as she pinches Katniss' cheek.

Katniss swats away her hand and Johanna laughs as she continues pouring the shots. "It's my birthday though. Shouldn't I get to do what I want?"

"It's your birthday but it's _my_ house, _my_ liquor, and_ my _rules. And you have a shot with all of us and a shot on your own after we serenade you with a round of 'Happy Birthday.'" Everyone cheered and Katniss huffed and gave in –– but with a small smile threatening to overcome her.

Johanna turns to me. "Did you bring any candles, Cake Boy?"

Shit. "I––"

She laughs at me and goes to take the cake out of the box. "It's fine, I'm sure I have some somewhere in here." She rummages through some of the cabinets in the kitchen while she calls to Thom to turn off the music. Taking out the lighter in her pocket, she sets to putting the candles in the cake and after their lit, we all pick up a shotglass and cheers to Katniss. The drink burns down my throat and I try to keep the grimace off, but thankfully the lights are turned off and in just the candlelight I can make a face that vocalizes my dislike for the taste of the alcohol without anyone seeing to make fun of. We're all on one edge of the table and Katniss is at the other.

It may be the alcohol, I don't think it is, but Katniss Everdeen looks more beautiful than I think I've ever seen before. The candles give her an underlighting, something that we studied just a couple weeks ago in art class. Underlighting gives a sinister look to most things, and overall just accentuates non-pleasing aspects of someone, but I'm not sure if Katniss Everdeen has ever looked more beautiful or could ever again. Well, that must be alcohol talking because I remember how she looked for our graduation of middle school. We were on the cusp of becoming high schoolers and therefore of course, we thought that made us super important. Boys had to wear button ups and ties while girls had to wear dresses. Her dress was an older style, white which contrasted amazingly against her skin. We had to wear those heavy graduation gowns, but in the choir room where we were slipping them on I saw her in her dress. I was incredibly thankful for the overlarge graduation gown they had us all in, because I knew without looking down that I was hard, and my stiff dress pants and the friction they were causing as I tried unsuccessfully to move in my seat to a better position without being noticed were of no help. I sat and had to listen to speeches about how we were going onto the next chapter in our life, about all the success that was waiting for us to find it, and all I could think about was Katniss Everdeen and that dress. She was beautiful. She_ is_ beautiful.

And now here I was, giving my voice into the rowdy rendition of "Happy Birthday."

She smiles embarrassedly, and I decide that it is in fact the most beautiful moment I've ever seen her. She's lost the tense holding back and seriousness that I've always seen in her due to the alcohol, as well as being completely surrounded by people she likes and calls friends. My stomach lurches at the thought of me being included in this. Am I? I don't know if I could be, if I'm truly part of the "close friends of Katniss Everdeen that makes her smile without holding back," but the possibility is enough for now. Everyone holds their breath as she looks around and makes a wish. I feel my heart pounding when her eyes sweep and lock on mine and –– do they hesitate on me for a bit? I'm not sure, because she continues a sweep and close her eyes and bends near the candles to blow them out. My eyes widen in the seconds before she blows the candles out fully, and then the lights are out. Everyone cheers and I hear someone stumble their way towards the lights and flick them back on.

Katniss takes her other shot that Johanna forced on her. I don't know if it's actually because it's her birthday, or if Johanna just said so because Katniss was complaining. The cake is cut and served, and for a good chunk of time people are coming up to me to compliment me on the cake and thank me for bringing it. Everyone has forks and plates, but we're all standing up and milling around. I'm smiling and nodding at everyone that talks to me, glad that they seem to enjoy it. My eyes flicker to Katniss as she seems to being looking through the crowd and looking at me, and she tries to hide her blush behind her fork as she chews through the cake. Her cake. Her cake that I made.

She starts walking over to me and I make sure to not take another bite and hope that I don't have any crumbs on my face. "This cake is really good Peeta," She tells me and briefly squeezes my forearm before quick taking her hand away and going back to eating her piece.

I nod and take a small bite of my own. "I'm glad. You–– I'm glad." I try to not look at her for a bit so that I can hide the fact that I almost said, _you deserve the best,_ or something on the same level of cheesiness and cliche. There's a crumb on her cheek near her mouth, like I was hoping I didn't have, and I automatically start to reach out to get it. She freezes and I pause, but then I resume, telling her, "You have a crumb," under my breath. She laughs after I get it off and tries to hide her embarrassment. "Now we're even," I tell her.

She looks at me confused. "Even?"

I just want to slap myself and my inability to shut my mouth. I'm pretty sure she probably doesn't remember when I had flour on my face and she brushed it off for me. She doesn't reply it in her mind, how her hand felt on my skin. I try to leave out all of those details. "Yeah, when I had flour on my cheek? You got it off, and I took care of that cake crumble. Even."

She looks troubled though at it as she nods uncertainly, and I wonder if I could ever get good at this whole "small talk" thing with this girl. I'm ready for her to run off from me again, but she doesn't. She stays right nearby and I take it as a step forward. I bring up the rest of the evening –– _did you enjoy your party? Everyone here that you wanted to see? Are you doing anything else for your birthday?_ I want to ask her about what Johanna told me earlier, ask her if Gale was really her first kiss? Did it mean anything to her? Is Johanna lying, or does she not know something? But it's not my place to ask so I bite down the questions and try not to be irrationally jealous about the guy who grew up alongside this girl.

It seems like all at once everyone realizes how tired we all are. Our stomachs are filled with cake making us sluggish on top of everything else people consumed throughout the night and everyone seems to grow quieter. The decision of a clean up tomorrow is made easily and we all go downstairs to the basement where Johanna has designated for us to sleep. There's a mattress on the ground along with several sleeping bags, pillows, and blankets all over. A couch is in the corner.

"Birthday girl gets the mattress. Everyone can fight over the couch. You don't sleep anywhere else, and my door is locked for a reason."

Everyone choruses a goodnight out to her and people just start to walk like zombies and fall wherever they do and stop moving. Someone makes it to the couch, and Katniss settles onto the mattress. There's only one sleeping bag left, and of course it's the one right next to Katniss' mattress. I'm red in the face as I go to lay down. I didn't plan this, and god I hope she doesn't think I did because that could only add to the idea of me in creepy status about it all. But when I look over at her once I'm laying down she's facing me and she gives me a quick smile, her eyes sleepy. My heart is hammering because the idea of having Katniss Everdeen be the last thing I see when I go to bed, the first thing I see when I wake up almost seems too much. I close my eyes and try to swallow hard and will myself not to_ get _hard but I know it's no use. I've been able to go most of the party without having to deal with it badly, of course it's going to spring up now. When she's so close.

"We're not even, you know," I hear her voice whisper out and I open my eyes to see her ready to fall asleep face gone and replaced by a half-attempted scowl.

I'm confused and I voice it. "What?"

"We're not even. We're _not_. You made that cake for me––"

"That was for your birthday, Katniss. That doesn't count for anything like this." We're both whispering and as we become slightly louder she scooches her body on the mattress closer to me. Jesus.

"Okay, fine but that still doesn't mean anything because we're still not even."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Katniss."

"You're going to make me say it aren't you?" Her whisper is vile and I hate it. I want this conversation to go away and not exist. I don't know what she's talking about but she continues to talk to shine light on it for me. "The bread at my father's memorial, Peeta."

No, I definitely don't want to talk about this, the one time besides now that we've had any real interaction. I try not to think about it, but she had to bring it up.

"I don't know if you even remember," She whispers.

Of course I do. "Of course I do," I say quietly. What I don't say is the details. What I don't say is: _you had tears in your eyes but already you were trying to be strong for the rest of your family that was left. You held tightly onto Primrose's hands and refused to even entertain the fact of letting go. She cried openly, her emotions on display for everyone, and it made you just hold her tighter to you. You looked tired and Prim looked tired and everything about the two of you gave off the feeling as if you're just beaten down. Your mother was several paces away from you and looking away, but I saw her face. Or it seemed like the lack of one. Shock and grief seemed to steal away her ability to have any of it show upon her, and she stood and talked to some family that came up to give their condolences. Only me and my father came to the memorial from my family, and there weren't many from our side of the town. We stood out like stubborn dandelions in the meadow of Seam and when I approached you by myself, with only a loaf of bread in my hands you tensed up. I noticed how you already were skinny, both you and Prim and all of you, and how the grief and one less person bringing in money wasn't helping. How there was talk in town that you're mother hasn't been in work since the fire and how there's talk of people not thinking she'll come back. And I made a loaf of bread that morning, that morning that me and my father opened and then gave the shop over to the others so we could pay our respects and I could give you what I made. My palms were sweating and I felt like I had cotton in my mouth. I gave you the bread and you told me you didn't need my charity. And I tried to insist it wasn't but you wouldn't listen, until your sister slowly reached out for the bread. You instantly quieted down and you didn't speak again, as you turned her away and took the bread._

I don't say any of that. All I say is, "Of course I do." None of those details. Details that I try to block out and am somehow able to yet am still unable to block out Katniss' face in the hallway when someone congratulated me on my heroics with my cane. She looked so mad that I survived honestly, and that's a look, try as hard as I could, I didn't seem to ever be able to shake off. But this, the bread incident, I've been able to ignore and forget even what happened. But she brings it up of course.

She seems relieved that I don't delve into details. I'm relieved that she doesn't as well. She's talking fast, and I wonder if it's the confidence of alcohol that's making her talk to me about this finally. "Well, that bread really helped us, Peeta. I felt really bad for how I treated you and wanted to apologize, but at the same time I still felt like it was charity and all my ego wanted to do was throw it out. But Prim inhaled the smell so hard and I couldn't take it away from her. It was the first night in a long time that we had such good food in our stomach. And I know it didn't seem like a lot, probably, or whatever, but Peeta it meant a lot. And I was an ass to you. So I was so embarrassed about the idea of eating my words and saying thank you that I didn't. And I don't have a way to make us even. So no, we're not even."

We're quiet, and there's drunk snores all around us. No one else is even awake to hear us I'm sure. "I'm not keeping a tally, Katniss. You don't have to either. You don't owe me."

"But I was so mean––"

I laugh a bit and she pauses, her hand actually in midair. "You sometimes can be. I try not to take it personal when I can avoid it. Apology accepted and your debts are gone." My smile is completely crooked, I can feel it, as if laying down on my side makes all of the alcohol truly hit me.

"I wanted to hate you," She admits lowly.

It hurts at first, hearing that. But I kind of expected it. Between half of the times that she has to fight how far her scowl went when she looked at me showed enough. I wonder if it was just because of this one instance, or if me not being from the Seam is a part of it too. If she cares about that sort of thing. "Do you hate me?" I ask in a quiet voice, and even I can notice how nervous I sound.

"No." Her voice is still a whisper but she's firm in it and I hold back a sigh of relief.

"Good. Then we're good."

"But––"

"No buts," I tell her, and I take her hand that's still in the air and bring it back down to the mattress. We let go but our hands don't move too far, my hand still atop the mattress. She huffs but then after a bit she offers me a small smile and mouths, "okay."

"Goodnight Katniss," I tell her, and try to stop the feeling shooting up my spine. I feel warm, knowing this'll be the last thing I say aloud tonight. I'm saying goodnight to her. And she––

"Goodnight Peeta," She returns and yawns, and her eyes close. I keep mine open a bit longer because I just want to be able to look at her, at her face and how peaceful she seems. It's a bit until I get my eyes closed, and right when I'm about to fall asleep, I feel something on my arm. I crack open my eyes to look, and I see her hand lifted slightly, her fingers trailing lightly across my skin and I'm so damn happy that I rolled my sleeves up again so I could feel it directly on my skin. I look over at her but it seems like she's sleeping. I'm laying lower than her elevated self, my arm perched on her level, but in my mind I can see just the two of us in a bed, one bed, and laying together entwining our legs. Her hand continues it's dance and I get frustrated with myself and the tightening feeling I get in my pants. Of course. _Stop it,_ I say in my mind, but I don't say it aloud in the very improbable possibility that Katniss is awake, fully conscious of what she's doing, what she's doing to me on many levels.

_Get a hold of yourself Mellark_, I tell myself and shake my head as I close my eyes and just try to think back to old bedtime stories that I used to be read to with. I look at her just one more time, look down at her hand now running curcles on my forearm, and then close my eyes. I'm fine because I know when I open them, she'll be the first thing I see.


	11. crash into me

**a/n: **sorry for the delay –– dealing with things and stuff and real life doesn't always allow me to update and write when I want to. Thanks to everyone who is reading, has reviewed, favorited, or anything. I'm looking to definitely do an outtake part in Katniss' pov that takes place in parts of this chapter.  
Besides the chapter song, used is Minnie Riperton's song "Lovin' You." Also a reference to John Hughes' Sixteen Candles because I just needed a moment of self awareness with where a good deal of inspiration for this came from.  
I post about real life, fandom things and writing times on my blog (guys sorry but the elves were edited out) so check it out if you want.

extra thanks to mari and colleen aka my sanity and lifelines, as well as **kismet4891** for going over parts in the beginning of this chapter that I was feeling iffy about.

* * *

_sweet like candy to my soul_  
_sweet you rock, and sweet you roll_  
_lost for you I'm so lost for you _  
_you come crash into me_  
_and I come into you_  
_in a boys dream_  
**crash into me | dave matthews band**

**.11.**

The flames are there, and I can feel their heat. But I'm not in the bakery –– my mind doesn't register this exactly. All it registers is fire, there's fire and I'm surrounded by it. The house is not one I know, but it doesn't matter really, does it? It's about to burn down, with me in it. There's a door behind me, the flames surround it but don't touch it as if it's a parting of the red sea of flames, giving me an exit. But I can't exit, I can't leave. I turn into the house and start walking through it because there's something here, and I need to find it. My leg is burning and I limp, but I try not to pay it mind. I can't pay it mind. I have to get to, to––

Katniss.

It's Johanna's house I realize somewhere within me, and she's sitting at the kitchen table in front of her birthday cake with the candles lit. I see no one else here. The fire is close enough to give off heat and it roars, but it stays back. The smell invades me. I approach slowly, and she doesn't look at me. She just stares straight ahead, her eyes blank. I can see the reflection of the candles in her eyes. The pain of the heat is alive in my leg and I try to ignore it. I go to say her name but my mouth is full of smoke and heat and ash. Somewhere, there's coughing and a cry, but there's no reaction from Katniss about it. When there's only a table between me and Katniss, I try to say her name again but I still can't speak. She needs to get out of here. I need her to get out of here. She doesn't attempt to speak. Flames slither in and out of my vision but I keep my eyes locked on her and I at least will her to look at me.

She does. Her eyes hook me like lured bait and she still is looking at me when she goes to blow out the candles.

But the candles don't blow out but instead engulf a line of fire in front of her as if her breath was gasoline. She doesn't react to it and the flames surround her. I try to talk again but instead I start coughing. The smoke is worse. In order to save her I have to walk through flames.

I take a deep gulp of the ash and step forward.

"Oof!" I wake suddenly and unexpectedly, and I don't know why at first. I still have the smell and taste of smoke in me and I will myself to not start a coughing fit. It's still dark, and for a second I don't know where I am until I feel the hard floor on my back cushioned by a sleeping bag, the warmth of my blanket around me.. And the weight of something on top of me. And the something is shaking, and I hear whatever –– whoever? –– saying "no, no, no," over and over again.

I try and shake my head and get my bearings. It's only been a few hours but I'm pretty sure that all of the alcohol is out of my system. What is on me? Cautiously, I bring my hands to the shape and I feel the shaking. Well, it's most definitely a shape of a person. I try to piece together the night, try to piece together who could've fallen on me––

I gulp audibly and move my hands, not sure if I should be touching her. Then again, she is on top of me, now that I'm more aware I can tell she's curled on her side in the fetal position and on my stomach. I figure she rolled off her mattress. I think for a second of just going back to sleep and stealing this moment with her, but she starts saying, "no, no, no," again and I can't. Because I understand too well, she's having a nightmare.

I move my hands, trying not to touch her prematurely, and bring one to her shoulder and the other where her hands are in front of her by her knees. "Katniss," I whisper and shake her slightly. All around us are the drunken snores of teenagers in deep sleep. I shake her again and repeat her name. After the fourth attempt she freezes for a second and then starts to flail.

"Woah, woah, woah," I say and I try to keep it down. She starts mumbling incoherent things and I try to shush her. "It was only a nightmare," I tell her and I rub her back. She's still on top of me and curled up, but I don't think about it. She's scared out of her mind and I need to calm her down.

Eventually she brings an arm and hooks it onto me as she tries to calm herself down. She straightens herself out from her curled up position, but she stays laying on top of me. Her head lays on my chest, and I'm sure she can feel how hard and fast my heart is beating. I try to not think about it still but god I feel like exploding, in more ways then one. She takes a few deep breaths and clutches me closer for a bit.

And then must realize what she's doing, because she's off of me and nestled between me and the mattress (against the mattress, really), facing away from me on her side. I turn to face her but I keep my distance with my body. Tentatively, I bring my hand up and place it on her back. She suddenly turns to me and I bring my hand back. "Why were you holding me?" She asks me in a whisper. She's drawn into herself and she's looking at me skeptically, and I feel a phantom of her fingers on my arm from just hours ago.

"I woke up to you on top of me," I tell her and her eyes widen. "I think you rolled in your sleep? Anyway uh," I rub my jaw and she watches my movement, which makes me even more self conscious. "I woke up, and then I realized you were there. And that you were having a nightmare. So I figured it'd be best if I woke you up and...yeah."

"How'd you know I was having a nightmare?"

_Because I know how it feels to be stuck in one and unable to claw your way out_. "You were shaking, and saying no. Guess I put two and two together."

There's barely any light but I don't even need it to know that she blushes at that. "Did I wake you up?" We're still talking in whispers, but she asks this even quieter.

I try to think. Did she really? I'm not sure, because I was going to walk right into flames when I woke up, and something like that is usually where I jolt awake, frozen in fear as if the demons of my subconscious might have followed me. I wasn't about to tell her that she did wake me up though, I'm not going to say something that can sound like I'm blaming her or anything. "No, woke up from my own dream –– ah, nightmare," I explain sheepishly. She doesn't respond, but I think there's a new level of understanding on her part about me; a small one, but it's there I'm pretty sure.

There's silence between the two of us, snores from others being the only thing coming through. "Do you want to talk about yours?" I ask finally.

There's a pause. "No," She says, but after a bit she starts to talk a bit. "It's always the same thing always –– in some form. For a while now."

"Fire?" I guess. Because I understand that. Because all I dream of is either fire or her, or apparently I can get real lucky and have them both in my dream like just before (_yay_).

"Yeah," she answers startled. And then it's like I can hear her brain working. How she goes through me knowing she had a nightmare, to me having nightmares myself, to understanding that being in a building on fire doesn't ever leave you. How you wake up with the taste of ash in your mouth. I can only imagine how much worse her nightmares are. "Yeah," she repeats, softer. I nod. I'm sure there's more to it than just fire for her. The flames were the worst part of my day in my accident but she dealt with so much worse. Her family, her father. Definitely things that would make an appearance in her night torments, something I was spared of and don't know the depth of. I'm not going to push her to talk about it though. I think of one time Marc had a sleepover and he found me getting myself a glass of water in the middle of the night and tried to ask me what was wrong. I couldn't talk about it –– about my nightmare. He didn't understand it and I didn't know how to make him understand it. He just nodded when I passed off on indulging in the things I dreamt and I barely slept the rest of the night, more of just laying half–unconscious in this weird state of a half dream where I'm still aware of where I was laying and how dark and silent it was around me. Nights are quiet and lonely with terrors taking over your subconscious, and I'm not about to make her relive them to me unless she wants to.

And she doesn't, I can tell. Of course there's a part of me that wants to be trusted in that sort of role in her life, but pushing that isn't the way to go, at all. She's trying to calm her breathing down again, and I tentatively bring my hand from where it sits between us to land on her arm. She doesn't tense under me, but I hear her let out a hard breath as if she was holding it. I gulp strong and we watch each other in the snore–filled darkness. I want to pry apart her brain and know what she is thinking. If she's lost in her nightmares, but more selfishly, what she's thinking of my hand on her, of the two of us stuck looking at each other. I couldn't look away if I wanted and I wonder if it's the same, to some degree on her. I think about maybe squeezing her arm to get some message across (which though?) but the thought feels dumb, like I'm some coach saying "good job" after their player lost and I'm trying to make them feel like it's not their fault when it totally is. But leaving my hand just there is like a flopping fish out of water. I slowly let away some pressure and before I realize what I'm doing, my fingertips trail her arm slowly up and down, up and down. I make the connection a beat too late that this is what she was doing to me before we fell asleep, that this is probably not something that I should be doing, that she wants. I don't even know if she remembers doing it, if the alcohol and almost–asleep state erased it from her mind.

But I realize she must when her breath comes out shaky. I will myself not to tense at it, I try not to let it be known the effect she always has on me, and how it seems completely amplified and now she's so close that she can definitely notice it. Her breathing evens out (and mine does too, thankfully) after a couple of minutes, and I see her eyes drooping. She has her blanket wrapped around herself since she fell with it like that, but it seems like she isn't going to be moving from her spot. "Go back to sleep," I murmur under my breath and force myself to not move that one piece of hair that's spilling out of the braid she put in for sleep. I want to. I want to feel if her hair really is how soft I think it is and I want to unravel the braid and see her face framed by the dark ink of hair around her. Fuck, I want to drag my fingers through her hair in the morning after sleep and feel it catch on bed head knots. But I don't. She breathes deep and nods as she turns away from me. Which I expected, but what I didn't expect is that instead of rolling away from me and closer to the mattress, she rolls _towards_ me.

Fuck. If I had a ruler I'd be able to measure the actual distance between us (between our _bodies_), but it can't be any more than six inches. Half a foot between her back and my chest, and she rolled with my hand still on her so there it lays still on her (other) arm. I don't know if she wants me to move it. I want to pull her against me and rest my head against her cheek, inhale the scent of her and have our bodies aligned and touching. The thought hums through me but I don't move. I _can't_, goddammit. That's crossing a fucking line that's taunting me and my hand is still on top of her arm. I wonder if I should move it off of her, I probably should, but now it's been a while where we've sat in silence between us and the idea of just taking my hand away seems awkward. _As awkward as just leaving it there laying on her, Mellark?_

I mentally shake my head. Katniss doesn't say anything else and her breathing (which I can feel _under my hand_) slows down to deep breaths. _Just go to sleep_, I tell myself. Go to sleep, it's not a big deal if she went to sleep herself without saying anything or forcing you to remove your hand. I sigh lowly and I feel her shift her body from underneath my hand, as if she wants my hand upon her more, as if it's comfort or just simply a touch wanted and desired. Or maybe she wants it off of her, she wants to be far away from me. I'm laying still but she doesn't make to move away from me or show being uncomfortable. I'm laying still, frozen solid on my side but my mind runs marathons with her skin under my hand burning an inferno. I feel the warmth travel through me, how it tingles through my fingertips and spreads to my whole hand, how it crawls up my arm in an agonizing slow pace and shudders through my shoulders, how it hits my back and all at once seems to coat the rest of my body like another blanket, or rather the season of summer atop of me. I close my eyes so I can't see the dark silhouette of her against the night. I fall into a peaceful state of unaware.

It's laughter that wakes me up. I'm not completely sure of anything else around me or anything, but I hear laughter and there's words being spoken. It's a female voice, and there's another slow quiet chuckle that join as well as some sound I can't identify.

I clutch the blanket I'm holding onto tighter as I try to piece what exactly is going on in my sleeping brain. I try to think if I have to get to the bakery, but I remember that I don't work this morning, that I'm not home, that I'm laying on the floor of Johanna Mason's house. I'm warm, warmer than I could really remember ever waking up, and it feels wonderful. I can't remember my dreams and that's even more wonderful. I try to remember more of the night. I drank, we all drank, there was loud music, there was Katniss, there was Katniss deliberately evading me, there was Katniss getting her birthday cake, there was Katniss running her fingers down my arm, there was Katniss who fell on top of me, who rolled towards me.

I open my eyes a slight bit.

There's Katniss laying with her body against mine, my arms wrapped around her, which I thought was a blanket, her arms I now feel around my waist and her head pressed underneath my chin. I will myself not to tense up but I come uncomfortably aware of how tight my pants feel at this moment.

_Dear fucking god, why?_

I want to hide but the only way I can in this moment is by burying my face in Katniss Everdeen's hair. I don't, but I note how it smells like wood and vanilla and try not to get more hard. It's the greatest thing I ever smelled, and working in a bakery has me smelling amazing things on a daily basis. I think about moving but her hands are still around me and I don't want to bring attention to the fact that I'm awake to anyone. I think she's awake as well, because her breathing seems like she's trying too hard to sound like she's asleep. You know, kind of like mine right now too.

Laughter comes again, laughter that I've heard a great deal of for the past couple of weeks. I keep my face from wincing but that's all I want to do, well, besides crawling into a dark hole and never seeing anyone ever again. Another odd sound, and it takes me a bit to realize that it sounds like a polaroid being taken. _Great._

"You think we should wake the lovebirds?" I hear her voice whisper. There's no other sound and I wonder if every person is just sitting around watching us.

"Don't be mean about it, Johanna." Of course it's Madge that says that and all I want to do is hug her but, oh right, I'm in the arms of the girl I've been in love with for almost my entire life and I don't even know how _that_ happened, really.

"I'd never dream of being mean about it," Johanna tells her amused, and I can almost feel Madge's eyeroll.

A weight falls on top of us as Johanna starts singing in an overly dramatic manner, "_Lovin' you, is easy 'cause you're beautiful..._" She's laying across us and I feel her roll closer to us, bringing her face towards ours as she continues, "_Makin' love to you is all I wanna do_."

I open my eyes and look down as I feel Katniss move her head and look up at me. We're still for a moment as Johanna continues singing (_lovin' you is more than just a dream come true..._), and we turn to look at her. She grins wickedly, and the moment kind of falls into us both at once as we start to try to scramble away from each other. But with Johanna on top of us we can't seem to, as if she's holding us together (I wouldn't be surprised if she was).

There are footsteps coming down and I hear a big yawn. "Did I miss the orgy memo?" Gale's voice asks and Johanna's laughter rings out close to us again. I groan, my headache suddenly pounding and I need to get away from all of these people now.

"Johanna get off," I bite at her, and she finally moves away as me and Katniss both roll away from each other. I'm wrapped up in my blanket still and I try to think of other things now that I'm away from Katniss, like crusty milk or my brothers beating the shit out of me during a blizzard years ago and leaving me in the snow so I can get rid of my asshole boner that of course I had to wake up with on this morning. I was pressed against Katniss entirely, every inch of my front against hers, but I try not to think about it, try not to think about the fact that she felt _all of me_, and work on working myself down. My headache does help with this though, brings my attention to the pounding in my head instead and helps me get a control of things.

"How did you sleep?" Johanna asks.

Wonderful. After my nightmare, after falling asleep with Katniss nearby and my hand upon her, I've never slept better. She ended up in my arms. I will probably never sleep better.

"Where is everyone?" Katniss asks, trying to avoid the subject. I wonder how she slept. From what I noticed before we rolled away from each other, I still seemed to be in the same area that I was in. So was it Katniss who moved, who came towards me and brought her arms around me first.

_Gross, month–old milk sitting in summer heat._ I repeat it like a mantra.

I'm not looking at anyone, and all I know of are Katniss, Johanna, Gale, and Madge being here. "Everyone else left when they woke up, whenever that was. You didn't answer my question though, Kitty Kat." Johanna's voice is sing-songy by the time she's calling Katniss Kitty-Kat.

Katniss groans. "I told you not to call me that."

"And I told you before to not fuck on my basement floor. I thought I was just joking but _apparently_..."

I huddle further under my blanket.

Katniss' voice is harsh. "Nothing. Happened." I can imagine her jaw clenched.

"Well, whatever happened, it's your birthday and I hope you got _everything you wanted_." I hear her shift and sigh. "Anyway, I'll be done picking on you two. Let's go have some breakfast, and then I can start driving your asses home."

I hear people start to go up the stairs and eventually I get up as well when I'm certain that there's no visible bulge in my pants that show just how much my body enjoyed being aligned with Katniss'. I hear her standing up as I do and I happen to look over at her at the same time she looks over at me. I feel myself redden, and she's blushing as well as we both look away.

"Mornin'," I manage to get out, and she repeats it to me. It's silent and awkward as hell between us and I think about asking her how she slept as we make our way to the stairs just for some small talk but I realize that that is not small talk at all between us. That is awkward, avoid–at–all–costs talk. We make our way upstairs in silence and the place is pretty messy. It's like I expected, with only me, Katniss, Johanna, Gale, and Madge still around. Johanna is cutting into the cake and Gale sits at the table with a big bowl of chips that he's eating mechanically.

"I thought you said we were going to eat breakfast," I ask as Johanna hands me a piece of cake.

She cocks her eyebrow at me. "I'm not cooking. Besides, cake for breakfast is a great thing. You're a baker, I thought that this is your usual breakfast anyway."

I shake my head. "Yeah Johanna. My breakfast is cake, while for dinner I eat a whole plate of cookies and cupcakes."

She takes a bite of her own piece of cake as she waggles her eyebrows at me. "Someone's feisty this morning."

I ignore her and all of us eat our healthy breakfast. I never considered birthday food as hangover food but it's pretty sufficient going along with tea and coffee. Johanna considers taking a hair of the dog that bit her, but since she's to drive us home she refrains.

"Gale, drive Madge home. I'll drive Peeta and Katniss," Johanna directs as she picks up car keys and throws Gale's at him.

He catches them with a slightly confused face. "Madge lives in town though, wouldn't it make more sense––"

"Gale, drive Madge home. I'll drive Peeta and Katniss," she repeats firmly as she walks out her house. The rest of us follow as she locks up, and me and Katniss make our way to Johanna's car, Madge following Gale to his truck. We wave our goodbyes and I start to open the back door. "No, Peeta you'll sit in the front."

I raise my eyebrow at her and frown. She's being extremely particular with our driving home arrangements and I know that it can only mean trouble, and most likely for me. Katniss looks at me and shrugs as she steps into the back. I sit in the front seat hesitantly, or I guess more of it being like sitting in the belly of the beast. Johanna Mason turns to me and shows all of her teeth in a smile as she starts up the car. I'm taken back to weeks ago when she gave me a car ride because my brother stranded me and she had "a bone to pick with me," a game to start. And here we are now, Katniss in the backseat, and me getting a lift home from Katniss' birthday party.

She flicks through the music stations and ends up on a light guitar song with some crooning. I crank open my window slightly so I can get some cold biting fresh air to hit my face. "So, Peeta Mellark. How did you enjoy the party?" Johanna starts off conversationally once she pulls out of her driveway.

My eyes flick into the review mirror but I quickly glance away when I catch grey looking back. How could I even begin with my feelings on the party? My mind automatically flicks to how I woke up this morning, because besides everything that was both good and bad, this may have been my singular most favorite moment of my entire life. I feel a bit guilty with how I sort of stole this moment with Katniss, that we by accident found our way to each other in sleep and darkness, but I would never give it away. I will hold dear to this much and will keep myself with feeling satisfied with anything else that does (doesn't) happen. I'll be okay, because I know how it feels to hold Katniss Everdeen in my arms, even if for just a second or two.

I clear my throat and see Johanna smirking as she drives. '"It was great, thank you ––" I look up into the mirror and deliberately catch Katniss' eyes, "––thank you for inviting me, Katniss."

She bites back a smile but still one comes as she nods and then goes back to not looking at me.

"Well that cake was to die for so I'm pretty sure your bakery connections are just begging for us to have you stick around," Johanna tells me and I laugh quietly under my breath. Despite how much she's been messing with me this morning (these weeks), I truly appreciate her. She's adding talk between the air of all of us within her car and it's the only way that anything would be said. If she didn't, I'm sure we'd be stuck in silence; Katniss with who–knows–what living in her mind and me making sure that the words "I'm in love with you" don't fall out of my mouth. Johanna continues the conversation, I go in and out of listening until we're in front of my house, the car parked and running with the three of us paused for a minute in silence.

And then I realize it and start fumbling with my seatbelt. "Right. Well, thanks again. And uh, thanks for the ride? And –– yeah, everything." My nerves are back and the damn seatbelt is of course giving me a hard time. I almost thank Johanna for not laughing at me at this moment, because I'm sure she wants to. I finally get it and open the door. "I'll see you guys tomorrow –– at school."

"Bye Peeta," Johanna calls out in a singsong and I repeat a goodbye to her. I stand up out of my door and wonder for a second if I should snake in through the opened window and say a goodbye to Katniss when I realize that she got out herself and is standing in front of me.

"I––" We both stammer at the same time and don't know where to go after that. I push back the blush that's threatening to overcome me and scratch at the back of my head in my hair. I'm sure my hair is a mess and it's not helping but it's a bad habit of mine that I've developed when I feel embarrassed and the girl in front of me definitely isn't helping. Katniss looks down at her feet as she bites her bottom lip and taps her toes to the pavement.

"I was going to sit in the front seat that's –– that's why I got out of the car," She explains finally and looks up at me. I nod my head and I think I hear a quiet chuckle from in the car. I'm sure this kind of confrontation could only be chalked up to another Johanna decision, her making me sit in the front with Katniss in the back becoming a bit more clear.

"Well, thanks again Katniss. I'll see you tomorrow," I tell her. I look at her. I want to hug her (kiss her, pin her against Johanna's shitty ass car and lock her still with my body on hers) but I don't let myself do so. Even though we woke up in each other's arms this morning. Even though my hardened cock rested against her stomach. Did she even know? Did she even really understand the effect she has on me?

She gives me a full smile though, one that I haven't seen really, truly, directed at me from her and my heart forgets to beat for a second or two. "I'll see you tomorrow, Peeta." She steps forward, her arms going out and I think for a moment that she's going to hug me. But in the end she just grabs my forearm with one hand, and then trails her fingers down my arms. It's like this is something new that lives between us, fingertips on arms, traveling to create a warmth and goosebumps at the same time. It feels so good and I just want her to do it forever, if this was the only way she'd touch me, I swear I'd be okay with it. I reel it back in though and nod at her and turn to walk towards my house before I do something stupid and give into my wants to chase after this electricity she stirs in me, in the air between us. I turn back only when I'm at the door and I see Katniss sitting with her face beet red and Johanna laughing as she fiddles with the radio. I can only imagine the interrogation scene going on in the car, the kind of thing I would've endured if I got a car ride home alone.

The house is quiet when I get in with only the sound of a television playing from some other room on the second floor. I'm sure it's my mother, she likes to sometimes put on background white noise as she works, and so I tip toe quietly to my room and make my way into the shower. I turn the temperature cold and try to freeze out how warm I feel because I have a ton of homework to finish up and then closing up at the bakery. The day passes by monotonously with me trying to not fall into thoughts from the party and the morning, but they live within me and replay over and over. Jakob is gone all day and every now and then I'll hear my mother on the phone, my dad is at the bakery, and I'm left alone. Work at the bakery goes by quick enough as well. My dad tries to pry about the party but I know he means well, so I let him know it was great and I really enjoyed myself. Did I even have a moment where I wasn't having fun and enjoying myself? Did that first half of the party really happen? Of course it did, and of course when it was happening it was the worst feeling in the world, one that I didn't think would ever be redeemed for the rest of the evening, but I was proved wrong until the bad didn't even compare to the good.

So I tell my dad it was good. Great even. He smiles and nods, realizing I'm not going to indulge in some of my adolescent stories and understanding so. He gives me space and lets me work the last half hour out front. Haymitch Abernathy is our last customer, getting a loaf of bread and a half–dozen cheese buns and I throw in some extra goods since we're going to be closing up and can't sell potentially stale things the next day. He salutes me for it with a shake of his head, and then waves me off without even trying to indulge me in a conversation this time. I change the sign to closed and I rush around with the prep work and clean up.

The night ends and the next day begins and I'm almost bouncing when I'm back in the bakery for the opening shift before I go to school. Because school means a lot of things of course, and although I should be dreading the crit I have in my art class like I always do, I'm anticipating the people. The person, really. Katniss. I think fleetingly of smashing some flour on my cheek purposefully if only for the possibility that she'll wipe it off again. I don't though. I don't have it that bad.

Who am I kidding? I have it so, so much worse.

She's not in my history class when I get in and I think maybe it's just because I didn't run in to the bell ringing like I usually do. But fifteen minutes into the period and she's still not in her seat in the back, twenty minutes, thirty, and then the bell is ringing to have us go to the next class and she never showed up. I wonder if she slept late, or maybe got sick or something, but I dismiss it. It's not my business. For all I know she could just be playing hooky, something I could definitely see Johanna making Katniss do with her.

But at lunchtime I notice that there's one person absent from Johanna's table of four, the same person that was absent from my history class.

I frown in thought as I stare at the blueberry muffin I brought as part of my lunch and pick it apart without eating it. I'm sure I'm overthinking it all. People are allowed to not come to school sometimes, honestly.

"How was your weekend?"

The question rips me from my mind and I look up to see Delly looking at me questioning. Wanting to know more than I can say right here.

I guard the amount I allow myself to smile. "Good. Yours?"

She smiles too. "Good. You work afterschool today?"

"Nope. Want to come over?"

She nods. "You make it easy to invite myself over to your house."

The rest of the day I try not to pay attention to the fact that Katniss isn't around as well as I was hard in math class, where we usually worked together and I suddenly found silence. I was able to do my work, albeit a bit slower and not as entertaining to get to the answers, but it felt really different. I realize how quickly it seemed that I planted Katniss into my school activities, and how it felt so out of place without her in it.

I wonder if Prim has anyone to walk her home, but I'm sure she does. I'm sure Katniss figured all of that out if she wasn't going to be in school and she'd never allow Prim to be alone.

Delly sits in the passenger seat as Jakob drives us to his house and the two of them make small talk back and forth easily. I'm almost annoyed by it, by how easily the flow between the two of them seems to be and how forced or non–existent it is for me and my brother. By the time he parks the car in our driveway he's already making his way inside, not looking to spend another minute talking to us. Delly and I make our way to the living room and turn on the television. I'm ready for her to change it to see the Price is Right being on, but she leaves the channel put. A movie is on, and I recognize it as one of the many movies we've watched and loved growing up, not–ashamedly so as well.

"Sixteen Candles over Bob Barker?" I question Delly. She smirks and nods and we watch. I fidget a bit throughout the movie, sometimes the theme of someone in high school being hopeless over a person that doesn't know who they are hitting too close to home. Sam Baker lays on her couch and tells her father as she fights tears, "I like him a real lot and he doesn't like me, okay?" and I sigh.

Delly looks over at me but I don't look at her. I don't want to. "You ever feel like you relate a whole lot to one character in a film?" I ask conversationally.

I can feel her still looking at me. "Peeta, are you comparing yourself to Molly Ringwald's character?"

"I didn't say that! I'm just trying to make conversation."

I finally look over at her and she shakes her head. "Oh Peeta. You're such a hopeless romantic." I roll my eyes and shake my head back at her. Whatever. My mind goes back to the party and I smile. "Besides, in this movie, the person Molly Ringwald's character pines over goes after her back." We watch the movie a bit more in silence until she finally asks. "So how was the party?"

I'm silent for a bit. "Good."

"Good?"

I let forth a smirk. "Great."

"Great?"

"Wonderful."

"Peeta!" Delly finally exclaims.

I look over at her innocently. "What?" She gives me a look and I get it. Details, she wants details. So I give her them, and try to make up for not telling her about the party, not asking if she wanted to come, for all of that. I give all the details, even about how I sulked and drank more than I usually do. Even about how I woke up in the night to a nightmare and Katniss had one as well. I skirt around the details of the nightmares, but I do tell her about how I woke up and our arms were around each other. I neglect to tell her of my morning wood though, knowing that'd be too far for me to indulge in.

"So you _are_ Molly Ringwald's character –– she's totally into you too Peeta!"

"Delly, shh!" I hate when she gets so excited that she shouts her words, especially because it usually has to do with me and my feelings over this one damn girl. "Look, I don't know what it is, if it's anything but...it was a good party. Better than I expected it could be."

"How did she act around you today?" Delly asks, but I shake my head.

"She wasn't in today. I don't know why."

She still is smiling though. "Well whatever. We'll see how she reacts whenever she gets back, and then you can make her another birthday cake so the two of you can sit on her kitchen table and kiss as you lean over it." The exact scene plays in front of us and for a moment I can almost visualize that happening yesterday instead of just all of us drunkenly singing a happy birthday to her. I try to get rid of the thought.

"Alright, alright, I'm not ever again telling you when I relate to a movie's plot."

Delly shrugs and the credits start to roll. "Not my fault it seems like John Hughes wrote your entire soul." She takes the remote in her hands and changes the channel. I don't suppress the mocking surprise as the two of us fall into guessing the prices of different items and she relays some details about her weekend to me as well.

It's late when I'm finally in bed for sleep. Delly stayed for dinner and left shortly after, walking home since she only lives down the street. I did some more closing prep for the bakery, having to work tomorrow morning and afterschool. I got my homework done and it was simple enough. My entire family already turned in for the night. I'm a bit restless though as I try to get myself to sleep and I can't seem to turn my brain off. I again in the silent night think where Katniss was, and I hope that she's okay. I turn over and can't sleep. I think about the work that I have to do tomorrow, and if there are any pop quizzes I can guess are coming. I turn over and can't fall asleep.

I sigh and my hand sneaks under my boxers. I'm not even hard but I know this is a sure–fire way to calm me down and help me get to sleep until my alarm goes off. I wrap my hand around my cock and start to pump it and instantly find myself growing harder as I quickly recall the feeling of her warm body against mine. What would it be like in another universe, if we woke up like that and didn't roll away from each other but grabbed at each other even more? In my thoughts I feel her grab for me, work me off in the way I'm working myself off right now, and I clench my jaw to keep quiet in the quiet house.

But it's not exactly quiet. I falter as I hear something, but try to quickly disregard it. I hear it again, and it's definitely at the window. I look out it. I live on the second floor and there's a tree whose branches scrape against it. I figure it's the wind. I'm about to start working myself off again when the sound comes again. "Shit," I mutter and quickly sit up and tuck myself back into my boxers. I take my shirt off that I was going to sleep in and quickly wipe my hands off as I go over to my window and look out. There's no wind at all and I look out at the tree for a bit. What could it have been? I'm sure now I won't sleep at all.

I'm about to turn around when the sound comes again, as well as some movement out of the corner of my eye. It looked like something was thrown at my window, and I quickly look down to see a figure that's standing and semi–trying to hide in my yard. I open my window, confused, and the cold air hits me as well as recognition.

"Katniss?" I call out in a whisper in the middle of the night.

She's in jeans and a tshirt, shivering and looking like she hasn't slept. She stares in silence at me and I realize I'm shirtless. "Hey," she says finally and curls her hand in a wave.

"What are you doing?"

"I told you I'd see you tomorrow," She said. I'm confused, but then think back to the car ride home when we awkwardly moved around each other and she took the front seat. I thought she meant at school though. My mind spins and I don't know what's going on.

She shivers again and I pull myself back together. "Hold on," I tell her and close the window. I quickly wash my hands and face in my bathroom as well as putting on a long waffleshirt and sweatpants and grabbing a sweatshirt. I try and adjust myself so my now half–hard cock doesn't show. I walk through my house as quietly as I can. I'm not lightfooted, but Jakob at least gave me brotherly advice of sneaking out, the number one point being to skip the third stair at the top because it creaks loud. I take a deep breath when I get to the front door and then open it and make my way towards Katniss who's standing nearby the trunk of the tree near my room. I give her my sweatshirt and she puts it on right away and then mutters a "thanks" as she hugs herself in it. She's swimming in the thing and I nearly die when I see her bring her face into the collar and I have to imagine the moment where she pauses for a moment to just inhale the scent.

"So..." I start off, hoping she'll talk. I have no idea what she's doing here. Not that I mind, at all. But I am confused. She doesn't seem to want to talk so I try and prompt her again. "Where were you in school today?"

She shrugs and doesn't look at me. "It's been a long day."

She seems tired and preoccupied in her mind. I don't understand why she's here, and I feel like it's a puzzle I'm not ever going to be able to piece together. "How did you get here?" I try with a different question.

"I walked here."

"Why?"

She looks up at me and there doesn't seem to be a hesitation in her eyes, unlike the hesitation with everything else about her. I'm startled by it because I've never seen it before on her, never truly knew she could ever look with this feeling, especially directed at me. "I needed to do this," She tells me.

I'm about to ask what but she traps me against the tree in my yard, her mouth on my own.


	12. kiss me

**a/n:** if you haven't read it yet, I put out the first outtake for lovefool a bit ago. It's Johanna's pov and it goes through why exactly she takes on Peeta's "case" –– I know a good chunk of you were asking for it so it's up. I have two Katniss povs started, hopefully will get one out soon but I won't try and make a promise with when it'll be out. Real life is kicking my ass. I'm dealing with a lot of things that I'm not going to get into her, but I'm just asking you to bear with me. if you follow me on tumblr you probably know a chunk of what I'm dealing with, so yeah  
speaking of tumblr –– I posted the first part of this update on there a bit ago. every now and then I'll do lovefool posts, so if you go on my blog go onto "/tagged/lovefool" for all things lovefool I post.

this chapter's song is necessary for anything even related to the 90s and romcoms lbr

big thanks to colleen and mari for being rocks honestly, and **kismet4891** and **deedub7** for helping me with encouraging words to get this written.

* * *

_oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight_  
_lead me out on the moonlit floor_  
_lift you open hand_  
_strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance_  
_silvermoon's sparkling_  
_so kiss me_  
**kiss me | sixpence none the richer**

.**12**.

The first time I ever truly thought about Katniss Everdeen's lips was when I was seven years old. It was Valentine's Day and everyone had to make Valentines for the class. Katniss was in my class, and hers was the last Valentine I wrote the night before. I was a nervous wreck. Everyone else's was easy; just sign the card that had some cheesy pun on it with the Ninja Turtles and hearts all over it with "Love, Peeta." But the idea of putting "Love, Peeta" on a card to Katniss Everdeen? It felt different, and it totally _was_ different. I was confessing my true heart to her and I was seven years old. Nevermind the fact that everyone's card would say the same thing, everyone would give and receive cards stating a love that did or didn't exist, it was the first time I'd ever acknowledge it to her. Would she be able to tell that it means something different, hers versus the rest of the class'? My pen was stuck in the air above the card, not yet even writing her name because I couldn't mess up. The idea of having to give her a card with cross outs on it was something I refused.

I wondered if Katniss would sign hers with "love" as well. If I'd see that word strung together with her name, on something addressed to me. My seven year old heart was trying to beat out of its chest.

My dad and I also baked a bunch of peanut butter cookies with a drop of chocolate in the middle. Each card had an attached cookie in tissue paper. There were extra and I wanted to give Katniss Everdeen the rest. I wanted to give her all of them. I wanted to sign the card "Love, Peeta" and have her know how much I truly meant it.

In the end, my dad checked up on me to make sure I was done so I had to quick just write the damn card before going up and getting ready for bed. I asked to bring the extra cookies to class the next day, _you know dad, for my friends at lunch_, and he let me. Before class started the next day, on that Valentine's day, I made sure to sneak into our cubbies when no one else was there and I put my extra cookies into the jacket pocket of Katniss', something that was too big for her but would then be able to be used for several years. I was shaking when we brought all of our desks into a circle, old shoeboxes and tissue boxes decorated on each of our desks to be our mailboxes, eagerly awaiting for the sweet words and sweet treats of our classmates. When I distributed mine, I tripped slightly when I got to Katniss' desk, where she stood and watched me. Intently.

Because of course she was done giving out her own invitations at that point. Of course she watched me trip a bit.

"Careful." It was the first word she truly directed towards me and my mouth was dry because I was seven and in love. She looked down and nodded at my shoe. "Your shoelace is untied. You should double–knot it."

I nodded at her. "Yeah. Thanks." I didn't mean to be so short with my answer but I didn't know what to say. So I quickly bent down and double knotted my shoelace, and did so to the other for good measure. When I drew myself up, she was still watching me. My cheeks were burning, I could feel them (even back then that girl drove me red in the face, she always has). My shaky sweating hand finally reached into the bag I had and took out the one with her name in it. I prayed that the chocolate wasn't melted, I prayed that she couldn't see my hands shaking, and I didn't look at her when I placed it into her "Valentines Mailbox," but I still felt her eyes on mine. I managed to mutter a "Happy Valentine's Day, Katniss," to her, and walked away back to my desk, without tripping may I add.

Delly kissed the cheek of some boy I can't even remember when he gave her his Valentine. I remember her saying that she had a crush on him, so she just decided to go for it. I was so jealous of her ability to just do that; to just kiss his cheek because she liked him, and she wanted to. He kissed her cheek back and held her hand. I looked over at Katniss. I wondered how it'd feel to have her lips on my cheek, or my lips on hers. Her hand in mine.

I saw her as we all piled onto our buses at the end of the day. She was looking down at the dandelions that were springing up all around already through the February frost, kicking at the fuzzy ones and pulling others that bloomed to their yellow flowering and placing them in her Valentines Mailbox. Her face turned confused when she put her hand in her pocket. I knew why, and she soon learnt as well when she brought out a bag that wasn't in her pocket before and she inspected it. A bag of cookies. I didn't know if she even looked at my valentine yet, but soon she was frantically looking around through the different heads of lined up kids as the buses slowly started to pull up to bring us to our respective bus stops. Her eyes landed on mine, because of course I was still watching. I had to. There was understanding in her eyes, and I realized that she knew that they were from me.

She smiled. She brought her hand up slightly and curled her fingers into a wave towards me, and then turned away and got on the bus. My wave back to her was a bit delayed but my smile was an instantaneous reaction to her's, and it stayed around for longer than I care to admit.

"You're going to have to kiss me back, Peeta." Katniss' voice comes through, and it's like an alarm clock waking me up and bringing me back to present.

She has me against the tree in my yard, hands by either side of my face and leaning to bring her face closer but not her body. I'm against the bark, its roughness going after me, and my hands at my sides in fists. Her hands grip my shoulders. But I realize I should probably be an active participant in this, no, I have to be. Her lips are on mine again and this time I move my own, have my hands rest upon her hips and pull her just slightly closer and closer.

I feel as if I fall into her and she pushes me harder into the tree.

Almost ten years since the first time I thought of her lips, first had the dream of her kiss, I have it in the moonlight of my yard. Her lips are chapped and both rough and smooth at the same time. It's my new favorite feeling. Our noses bump into each other's as we try to test out the waters of kissing, of kissing each other, and I wouldn't mind having a lifetime trying to figure it all out with this girl. Her hands move to the back of my neck and plays with my hair lightly. I don't know if her fingers are shaking or if it's me. My heart is pounding through my entire body, and I'm sure she has to feel it in my fingertips that lightly flex against her shirt –– no, _my_ sweatshirt. I pull back a bit and open my eyes to see hers closed and her face still inching towards my own.

I feel my cock just twitch at the sight. Licking my lips, I go back for more, more of her, taking my hands from her hips to holding the sides of her face. I take her bottom lip in between my two lips and quickly bring one hand down to the small of her back to pull her slightly closer as she exhales shakily onto me. I suck lightly on the lip I've captured, as if I can slowly consume her, but in reality it's her that's consuming me. She presses her teeth down upon my top lip lightly and I try to hold back a moan. I don't exactly and I'm about to feel embarrassed, but her hands wrap to moving slowly up and down my back and shoulder blades and she takes that final step so that our bodies are up against each other.

Like how we were when we woke up holding each other. And just like then, I'm hard as hell.

Kissing is weird. I do enjoy kissing Katniss, a point I never considered myself really getting to but it's odd. I don't understand how it can feel so good in so many different ways, when in technicalities all it is is lips touching. Noses bumping, teeth scraping. Chests brushing against each other, slightly, almost ghosting upon one another with the promise of laying firmly on one another just as long––

Alright. Well I guess I can understand those things.

Katniss Everdeen is intoxicating. I always knew this but now I'm fully feeling it and really, truly know it. It's only my second kiss and we're slowly taking the training wheels of awkward off of it and it's heading harder and firmer. _I really shouldn't think those words right now_, I berate myself. I think maybe we should talk about this, about kissing and us and how incredibly beautiful I find her and how in love with her I am _but please don't freak out_, but my mind forgets any idea of talking when I feel a shy sliver of her tongue on my lips. My response is automatic. My mouth opens just slightly, and I don't even think of it. Her mouth opens against mine as well, and it's like I wake up again.

I take control.

It's then that Katniss has the tree against her back, it's Katniss I have pinned with my own body and the bark. There's no space between the two of us and she quickly wraps her hands around my neck and her hands grip my hair. My hands are back to her waist, but my sweatshirt that she's wearing has risen slightly along with her own shirt riding up along with it underneath and my hand has contact with her skin. With both of our mouths open within the kiss, my tongue makes it's way into her mouth and hers, hesitantly, does the same in my own. I can't help the groan that comes out from the feeling of her, all of her, and even she lets out a sound that seems like she's trying to hold back from being vocal.

I don't think the sound will ever leave my mind. I want to live in it, in that breathy sound that Katniss Everdeen let out while she kissed _me_. I'm hard as hell and I have no way to hide it. There's no way she doesn't know I am. We're aggressive with this kiss now, moving far away from the awkward bumping noses kiss that it started out as, and our bodies are reaching for one another. It's the height of the feeling of my teenage hormones and in the moonlight and the dark, I have it with Katniss Everdeen.

She breaks from the kiss and pants hard into the night and my hard breath joins her. But I don't want to stop touching her, tasting her, so I connect my lips to kiss lightly on the underside of her jaw. I feel her shiver when I stay hovering in the area and it brings a smile to my face. I think she smiles too, but I'm not going to waste the time to check. I place another soft kiss in the same spot, again, again, and they're slow compared to the fast and fierce kissing we just did. But she's still breathing hard, and she's still consuming all of me like crazy. I tell myself again that I should probably stop my hormones from taking over the entirety of what we're doing, that we really need to talk about whatever the hell is happening, but I can't stop. There's a slight sweat upon her and the taste of her with the hint of the salt is too much for me. I understand why my classmates thought of me weird for never pursuing this with other girls that practically begged for this and more from me, but I don't regret not even being badly tempted by others before. I'm sure I'd still enjoy this with anyone else, but it's Katniss Everdeen, and there's no way that it could ever feel better than it does at this moment with her.

I move down her neck, to a spot near her collarbone and she shudders. I don't know if she even realizes what she's doing but I feel one of her legs wrap around my own and hook onto my for support. I hold myself back from wanting to growl and thrust into her and instead I kiss her slowly there again, and use my tongue against her skin as well. God, she tastes amazing and just the thought of stolen moonlight kisses tasting this good makes me wonder how she tastes everywhere else. I'd never have enough time to worship every inch of her in the way I want to.

She lets out a breathy moan and her hands grip hard at my hair and it feels fucking amazing. I don't think anything could feel better but then her leg she has hooked near my knees pulls against me and she forces my body harder into hers. I remove my lips from her and just hold my forehead on her shoulder and take a moment to breathe. Katniss Everdeen is the only thing in my senses and I feel as if I'm about to explode. She breathes hard as well, her fingers running slowly through my hair. We stay like this for a bit, not talking, and the only sound besides our inhale–exhale are the crickets that reside at the edges of the woods nearby.

Eventually, Katniss moves her leg from off of me and our bodies separate slightly. I breathe in one more time through my nose, trying to hold her smell within me for as long as I can and take my head away from her and step back slightly. We're still close, so close, closer than I've ever been to this girl if the past ten minutes never happened. We're silent still for a moment and just stare at each other for a bit.

I want to say it but I stop myself. _Some first kiss._

And then the two of us break out into slight laughter, the disbelief of what happened radiating from the sound. We stay quiet still because it's night, and I'm so thankful that no one in my house has woken up. When we settle down neither of us talk again, as if at this point we're scared of breaking something after what happened. I lick my lips and I watch as her eyes follow my tongue and watches me do so.

Is she thinking of kissing me? Is she thinking of my tongue on her? It's weird to think that no matter what her thoughts are, I'm pretty sure that isn't that far from what they truly are. "Well. That's not something that happens everyday." I finally get out, and she again chuckles lowly and looks away with a blush on her cheeks.

"Yeah um," she starts off, mumbling. "Not something I usually find myself doing. Ever. So yeah." Her hands fidget and she's nervous. It's almost shocking the difference between the Katniss that basically threw me against the tree to kiss me, and this shy one now that is struggling to talk. All I want to tell her is how it was the greatest moment of my life, god, how hard I am for her, how she's everything I never thought I'd be able to kiss, let alone kiss like_ that,_ but I don't. It'd be too much, I know. Too much too quickly and I'm not about to try and run her off after something like this happened.

"I have to go home. It's getting late."

I want to talk about this. I want to know why she had to kiss me so badly that she walked here from her house in the Seam without even picking up a jacket or sweatshirt. She goes to take off my sweatshirt but I stop her. "Keep it –– it's cold."

"Thanks. I'll get it back to you when I can."

I shake my head no. There's no way I could ever see that sweatshirt the same way again. Besides, the way it looks on her, I could never pull it off like she is right now. "Like I said, keep it."

She blushes and nods.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" I ask her and she's silent. I want to ask her why she wasn't in school. I want to ask her why she isn't answering right away and if it means she won't be in school tomorrow. I want to know what lead her to kissing me, if it means anything to her or if it's some stupid joke on Johanna's part where she dared her.

After a bit she finally says, "Bye Peeta," and starts to walk away.

But I can't let it leave off just like this. "Katniss –– wait!" I call out in a harsh whisper that still sounds loud in the night. She stops and turns towards me. She's already halfway to the street, on the edge of my lawn. It takes me just four steps to get to her and she looks confused at what I need. What I need is her.

I take her head in my hands and give her another kiss that I try and show a strength and sweetness all at once to her. I want to find these different kinds of kisses that you can have with someone; I want to find them with her. I'm afraid that this was just a one night thing, that the next time I see her she'll ignore me or walk away and pretend this perfect moment never happened. She kisses me back and I have to stop myself from melting. I pull back slightly and stare at her as she keeps her eyes closed, her eyelashes fluttering. My lips are almost still on hers when I speak. "I hope you had a good birthday weekend."

She smiles and our lips keep bumping into each other from our breaths, our movements. "I'd say it was a pretty good one, Peeta Mellark. Thank you."

I kiss her again for good measure and she clutches to my shirt, until we stop too soon for what I wish. "I'll see you when I see you, then," I tell her, because I'm sure she's not going to divulge more on that subject if she wouldn't earlier.

She steps back and nods as she seems to try and burrow further into my sweatshirt. "When I see you," she repeats, and then she's off into the direction of the trees.

I stand out there and watch until her silhouette disappears and then stand outside for a bit longer.

"My god," I whisper aloud to the night and I know that I'm wearing a stupid grin. I look down and see my hard on straining against the pants I threw on and shake my head as I turn and finally make my way to get back inside. I know I'm going to have to deal with this, there's no way I would be able to deal with a moment like I just had and not have a release and still expect myself to be able to sleep. I feel like the luckiest person alive at the moment when on top of everything I'm able to keep quiet as I lock the front door and make my way back up to my room. No one noticed that I was missing for a bit, no one else is awake.

I find my release quickly. I'm not surprised at all. I even have to hold back from smiling to myself at the thought that my imagination doesn't have to stretch far for material to get off on. Katniss Everdeen wanted me. I don't know why, or how, or what even built up to it, but I am one–hundred percent sure that tonight she wanted me, wanted me so much that she made her way through the cold night to release the want.

I don't have nightmares that night, but I wasn't expecting them. My mind was very clear with the idea of what I was going to dream about, and it didn't disappoint when her figure came towards me within my dream.

My dad notices my good mood when we work on opening together. Jakob doesn't comment, still half asleep as he kneads some morning dough, miserable with a morning shift side–by–side with us. I don't go into any details at all with my dad, just shrug and tell him that I think it'll be a good day instead of the fact that it was a good night. Jakob snorts and looks outside. It's raining and cloudy with temperatures getting lower daily, and I know I'll be antsy with my aching leg soon enough but I still don't care. Not at all.

I'm not surprised when I get into history and her spot is empty. I think maybe I should talk to the teacher afterwards to collect her work but I think better of it. I'm sure rumors would fly from the fact that I'm getting her homework. I was a bit surprised yesterday when I heard none about the two of us after the party and the things that happened, but it makes sense. Apparently Johanna didn't feel the need to add fuel to the flames of gossip this time; her, Gale, and Madge being the only ones really that were around and therefore would be the only ones that would've started anything. Maybe someone saw us sleeping when they woke up and were leaving, but like I said, luckily there were no rumors.

I realize for a second that one of my neighbors could've been awake. That they could've just looked out their window and seen us. I'm not ashamed of what happened (quite the opposite), but I don't want to deal with rumors, and I don't want to deal with Katniss hearing rumors. I can only imagine how she'd react.

So as much as I want to help and collect her work, I don't. As much as I want to run through the halls and let everyone know _I kissed Katniss Everdeen, wait no, Katniss Everdeen kissed me, _I don't. The day drones on but I'm still in a flying mood and a bundle of adrenaline that still runs through me from the night before. I don't know if it'll ever go away.

I see Johanna in a mostly deserted hallway before lunch and I walk over to her. She smiles at my approach and it's friendly. There seems to be no hidden joke in it, no secret that she's laughing at my expense at. I like this kind of Johanna, I decide.

"Hey Johanna," I say to her.

"What's up, Blondie?"

I suddenly want to figure out something else to talk about, something superficial or non–commital. Johanna isn't goading me and it feels almost as if we could, just for a moment, have an actual friendship that isn't built upon relationship problems or lack therof. But I come up blank and I sigh when I can't think of anything else to say, giving in and just asking. "I was just wondering if you knew where Katniss has been? I haven't seen her in school the past couple of days and was just wondering..." I manage to not smirk at saying that I haven't seen her in school, and am pretty proud at my self–control.

But Johanna smirks at my question, her smile changing in demeanor like I knew it would. "You've been missing your visual to pine after, Mellark?"

I shake my head. Of course I want her to be here for just that reason alone, but I'm also curious. I tell her so. "I'm just... curious, Johanna. Worried, even, really." I scratch the back of my neck and hope she doesn't go into a "feelings are stupid" rant.

Johanna shrugs and chips her black nail polish. "Don't know what to tell you. She does this sometimes, s'all."

I cock my eyebrow at her. "Does what?"

"Disappears. It's a Katniss thing. She'll be back when she is, and we'll all be fine."

I'm standing there looking at Johanna, who considers Katniss Everdeen to be like a sister to her. "So you do know and you're just not going to tell me."

She sighs. "Look, Peeta. I like you and all, and your concern for our dear Katniss is really heartwarming and all. Truly. Grinch's heart growing three times its size heartwarming even. But I'm pretty sure that if Katniss wants you to know where she is or why she isn't somewhere, she'll tell you. The only reason I know is because I'm stubborn as hell and annoying."

"You got that right," I mutter under my breath and Johanna laughs. I'm frustrated, but I understand. I get it. I guess I didn't really expect Johanna to tell me what happened anyway.

"Now come on, let's go into lunch and walk together to make your brother red in the face with anger. I'll even pinch your butt for good measure."

"Please don't come near my butt, Johanna," I say as we start walking together and we both laugh. I'll just ask Katniss myself. Again. I wonder if she'll come visit me again tonight but try not to get my hopes up. What happened last night isn't something I should depend on happening every night. It might not happen ever again.

Or, it might.

But I don't tell Johanna about it.

I'm sure she'd have a field day with it on so many levels. I wouldn't be surprised if she dragged me out of school and drove the two of us to wherever Katniss is and made us reenact it for her. She'd ask for all the details, she'd probably ask me how hard I was and I know I wouldn't be able to lie to her. It's not a conversation I want, even though I feel like I'm bursting at the seams with the want to just tell someone the fact that it happened, that we kissed. But not Johanna. Not in school, not when she's so... rowdy. Maybe I'll give her some of her vodka drink that knocked her down to the level of most humans in regards to feelings and try to discuss it, but I don't see that happening in the middle of the school day.

We separate from each other as we walk into the cafeteria and she thankfully doesn't goose me, opting just for a wink and a wave. When I get to my table I look at Delly. I want to tell Delly. I want to sit cross legged on my couch and tell her, pace as I go through the details, try to hide from how much just thinking about it again can get me hard so easily. But I don't know if I can even share it with her. I want to talk endlessly about that moment, but the idea of someone else letting me know how they view it...

I don't want to sit like a bunch of gossiping girls discussing it. I don't want Delly to put it into my head how it means Katniss Everdeen is obviously in love with me as well. I have no clue what was going on through her mind and I don't want to delude myself into considering even for a second that her feelings resemble mine.

So as much as I want to talk about it all I hold back. Not that I'd discuss this with her at the lunchroom table. That'd be like standing up in front of a fire squad with my arms open to show the largest target I can. I have things to figure out and I know eventually it'll be a conversation with Delly but for now... I have to figure it out by myself. Maybe I could talk to Madge, but Madge is first and foremost Katniss' friend. If she slipped to Katniss that I talked about it to her, well I don't know how Katniss would feel about it. I'm sure she wouldn't be happy with me. So I stew in silence and try to focus on the conversations around me. So–and–so's parents are gone this weekend, and so–and–so's sister is back from college, valid ID and non–chalance about buying underage kids alcohol and all. I decide to decline upon the party when they already start asking who wants to come. It sounds like it's going to be big and I drank a good deal last week that I need some time off.

Okay, and maybe the image of Katniss in my yard, trying to gain my attention from my bedroom when I wasn't even in there is something I think about, and how most definitely she'd never try to visit again. I'm not saying that I'm going to spend every night at home waiting for her to visit, but the idea of being out if she ever tried to visit again is unacceptable.

Delly asks when we're leaving the lunchroom. "What's up with you today?"

I look over at her and she's looking at me curiously. I just smile a bit more and shrug. "Just had a good sleep." And a good right before sleep.

She quirks her eyebrows but doesn't press. "You'll tell me about whatever you're hiding soon enough, Peeta."

We both know I will. I nod. "I'll tell you when I can it's ... nothing big." It's fucking huge. It's monumental. It's the moment I've waited for since the first time I woke up in the middle of a sex dream confused and with a hard cock. She nods back and we part ways as the rest of the day is a blur. The work day is a blur as well of much to do that I don't even have time to sit and daydream about the night before. Which is good and fine, because I don't have to have to hide a bulge with my apron. I've had to before and it's not a pleasant time.

Work, homework, dinner with the family, and it's finally nighttime and I'm heading to bed. "Get a hold of yourself, Mellark," I mutter under my breath as I sit down on my bed and run my hands through my hair. "She's not going to come every night, waiting for you to take advantage of her, or whatever it is she does want." I shake my head. I really hope she doesn't come tonight, truly. Temperatures are dropping even lower and the weather on the evening news said that we'd wake up to some frost. I don't want her walking in that, the idea of her not having a jacket or sweatshirt again not a good one.

So I convince myself that I'm not disappointed when a knocking doesn't come at my window. As much as I wasn't expecting her again, of course there was still a part of me that was hoping. My sleep is still good though, with only a quick nightmare in between other peaceful dreams. The weatherman was right and small frost particles are on my window the next morning. But as I dress I make a decision. If Katniss Everdeen is not in school, I'm going to figure out what her "disappearance act" is all about.


End file.
